Shadow on shadow makes a darker shadow.
Perhaps a clue lurks in the shadows.
Winter, with its low sun and long
Shadows, was always a problem.
Although, when they found her,
The garden was golden
With disco daffodils and spring
Had its hand on the bible.
The shadow of redundancy.
The shadow of the scan.
The shadow of that letter from abroad.
Then the shadow of the shadow
On her father’s lung, ominous
As a hawk’s on a rabbit.
Is there a collective for shadows:
A weight, a crush, a suffocation?
If she were a camel
We would call them straws.