My shadow could be any age,
sharpened to a T by
a stare-me-down sun.
My sideways self gliding
across the straw and chaff
tells me as we walk of
how things were, or how
things might have been.
Like skidding down a slope
on scree, laughing, breathless,
like a fool, or floating,
masked face down, watching
tiny silver fish amongst
the casual treasures of Salamis.
Or watching your back
from a high window,
your right hand lifting
a lock of hair as you climb
into the cab, the last cab.
Shadow blessing, shadow curse,
shadow, my dance partner
until the sun’s at rest
and they turn out the light.

About Dick Jones

I'm a post-retirement Drama teacher, currently working part-time. I have a grown-up son and daughter, three grandchildren and three young children from my second marriage. I write - principally poetry but prose too, both fitfully published. My poetry collection Ancient Lights is published by Phoenicia Publishing ( and my translation of Blaise Cendrars' 'Trans-Siberian Prosody and Little Jeanne from France' (illustrated by my friend, the artist, writer and long-time blogger Natalie d'Arbeloff) is published by Old Stile Press ( I play bass guitar & bouzouki in the song-based acoustic/electric trio Moorby Jones, playing entirely original material. spotify:artist:07MDD5MK9MnRGSEZwbsas9 I have a dormant blog with posts going back to 2004 at Dick Jones' Patteran Pages - - and I'm a radio ham. My callsign is G0EUV
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6 Responses to

  1. Irene Bailey says:

    I love the imagers you create on my head.

  2. says:

    I love this. My head fills with images, smells and sensations as I read.thanks Dick.


  3. Anna Scott says:

    Another fine piece but there is sadness in it. Just keep dancing.

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