Standing at the doorway
of my unconscious—
the black silhouette of a man
dwelling in darkness;
a manifestation
of fears
unnamed—
a shadow.
Each morning, as I become conscious,
he fades, gently,
into sunlight.
Shadow Man, A Poem
Standing at the doorway
of my unconscious—
the black silhouette of a man
dwelling in darkness;
a manifestation
of fears
unnamed—
a shadow.
Each morning, as I become conscious,
he fades, gently,
into sunlight.
Connie Pillon 