Shadow People


Shadow People


It’s shadow people

Out among the


Brushing magic onto

Buildings, yards and


Singing in the night,

With silhouettes against

An artist painted sky.

Drifting through

As rebels light the way

With artificial lights.

These heralds of the night

Not chased completely away,

Only pushed

To twist and shift

Shape and place

Till once more

They can dance and sprawl

Across all.

Signaling to all

Restful hours are approaching.


For winding down

To sleep filled nights.


There is something magical and wonderful about nightfall. At times when I am sitting outside as night approaches I imagine night as having human qualities. Since I was sitting outside last night enjoying the night – it was a bit chilly, but lovely anyway – I decided on this poem.

What do you enjoy most about nightfall?


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