Shadow Play

Behind the pink scrim, shadow play performers gesture about the stage in indistinct silhouette to woodwind accompaniment and the plucked bass string of my pulse.

Here and there, flashes of halos bounce against the screen, but instead of blinking I open the curtains.

Before me I see lakeside willows waving and the glaring pitter-pat of the Star’s face upon that shattered mirror of water.

It falls warm upon my cheek like your touch, and I can’t help but close my eyes again.

“What are you smiling at,” you say, as I lean back, humming the score of Nature’s Ombre chinoise.

Here is a 100-word, Five Sentence Fiction drabble prose poem that I am sharing with Lillie McFerrin’s troops (Prompt: SUNSHINE) and with my friend Victoria C. Slotto’s call at dVerse today for and Object Poem, where we look at something quite ordinary, but in a different way. Hope I haven’t jumped too far from their requests…these pain meds and all.

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21 thoughts on “Shadow Play

  1. Whatever pain meds you’re on, brother, they have transported your creativity to new heights; love this poem, like calling Sol a Star, and the fact that you were in some kind of tranquil state when the shadow play caught your eye & imagination; good work, sir.

    • I thought of firing off a flare to my resident actor-friend. I saw my eyelids as a curtain through which a shadow play was being performed. But was looking for other terms for the curtains. Then I remembered “scrim.” Thanks my friend.

  2. Fantastic, Joe. Very clear word-picture of what it’s like. Took me back about 30 or 40 years when I was involved in those actual shadow plays. I hope those pain meds work for you. I’m always happy to see your name on Mr. Linky, knowing I’m in for a poetic treat.

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