Funeral at Dusk

I don’t know why   my love
resides
     inside
that cubbyhole,
     if I’ll take it (or him)
     with me
     when I go,
if my love   can penetrate
the shade
that now remains,
     if I’ll survive
     this gloom
     he left
     behind.

 

For today's prompt, write a shadow poem. Some people are afraid of shadows (even their own), but others like to lurk there. There are shadow governments, shadowy characters, and well, just shade (which is super nice in Georgia during the summer).

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