Shadows.

I see shadows floating past me, in the darkness living in the reflection of the moonlight.

I hear a faint sound of an old tune. Being played on an accordion in a distant room.

Perfect companion for this shadow and the moon.

Stranger walks on past, wearing all black and walking with a limp. Talking to himself or perhaps to another, I cannot see clearly.

Perfect companion to this stranger dressed in black. A whispered conversation, hurriedly walking through the fallen leaves and branches.

Hurricane wind, they call her Veronica, took down the final stragglers from this past summer. Leaves, branches, stars and dreams of forever love, strewn on these Brooklyn streets glistening from the rain.

Shadows on the sidewalk, two people walking holding hands, speaking a foreign tongue quite animatedly. Jealousy and insecurity, hand in hand, destroying the vestiges of a love that was once so intense. Causes and the effects of life sometimes are imaginary. Just like those shadows we try and outrun.

Our own shadows we cannot outrun.

See the reflections on the glass window, see the sun shining bright; watch the moon looming large over the river and then have a look at the stars on a clear evening sky.

So many words are spoken, so many songs are sung; so many hearts are broken, so many lives are gone.

Old man playing with the keys of a broken piano; he is pressing down in no particular rhythm or tune. Listen to the song he is playing, it may be off key but it reminds one of the times we once knew.

When the children played in the park, the trees were bright and green, the ice cream truck blared its song and the dogs and children played in the water blasting from the fire hydrant.

Ringing phone coming from the apartment upstairs with the open window and the pretty lady sitting there. She ignores the call and continues sipping at her lemonade and watching the children play.

She sees the shadows.  

She prays for release.

She sings old Van Morrison songs while sitting by the window.

Shadows are reflections, not necessarily from the present – at times they are from the past or perhaps even the future, sent to accompany you at a given moment.

A telling breeze blowing through the trees, whistling throughout the evening. Stray dogs patrol the streets as alley cats and rats search for companionship or some leftover crumbs left on the sidewalk. A couple walking against the wind, holding hands and whispering in conversation. Up above, the moon is hiding behind noctilucent clouds while the stars are twinkling across the clear side of the sky.

The sounds of barking dogs, cats in heat and a lone airplane flood the mind of the young boy sitting on a bench watching the river in the dark. There are no shadows in the park, when the moon is hidden and the lamp lights are unlit – there are simply whispers spoken mistaken for shouts for freedom, for an embrace.

In the window above the music store, there is a young lady singing a song – the perfect companion on a empty souled evening. She is dressed in a white nightgown, she has long dark hair and is holding a glass of wine in her right hand. She sees a reflection on the sidewalk and quickly shuts the window and the curtain.

Love is the answer, love is the key, to getting through the times when a smile just won’t appear and the dark shadows seem to want to swallow us up. Look within and find the love that resides inside of you – love yourself and embrace that shadow, the reflection of yourself. With that shadow by your side – you are never alone.