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I run at night.

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I run at night,

with the moon at my side;

so when I glance right

I see my grave shadow:

thin, stoic, silent.

I am not alone, and-

under a dark sky

I too am a shadow.

I run at night,

I reach a river,

black and glistening,

like a snake coiled around the earth.

I push my hands through its depths-

freezingly cold and swift

as it drips from my fingers

like quicksilver.

I run at night,

under a starless sky.

I see in gray-

even on the darkest night

blackness is absent.

The world is like an old photograph:

blurred by mist

colorless under a cold moon.

I run at night,

beneath dark blue heaven,

more navy than void.

Its moon is at my back,

and I run home,

away from my shadow,

away from myself.

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