The shadow shape in front of me looks almost
normal, walking afternoon roads.
Arms, almost shapely. Body, almost
None of that pear-shaped loping;
this seems almost a jaunt.
My seventy dollar haircut—an almost unheard of event—
might be doing the trick.
This looks like the shadow of a Real Person
with a Real Life.
None of that existing on the edges, in the verges,
out of mainstream’s flow.
Must be just the right angle
for sun meeting grey outline
to create this illusion of “good shape”.
I’ll take it; I’ll take the encouragement.
Large bears can swim through water.
Heavy, wet-coated bodies can be buoyant
and move forward.
Poem by Marjorie Moorhead
Marjorie Moorhead writes poetry as a way to navigate and share the world with other curious travelers. Her work, found in two chapbooks, many anthologies, and literary sites, addresses environment, survival, and how we treat one another. Much of it can be accessed here: https://marjoriewritespoetry.wordpress.com/places-you-can-see-my-work/