Bruised

The sunlight strains through a dust stained window
Speckled in last spring’s dried raindrops
Bruised shadows fan the entirety of a compromised chamber
Not radiant, not luminous, not exactly dull, but – gentle and subdued
They flicker as the sunlight plays with the stirring foliage outside
Like shadow puppets behind a calico screen
I could cleanse the tainted glass;
Lift the burden from its smattered lens
The light would then flood blindingly, naturally, dazzlingly
But I have become accustomed to the bruised shadows,
And they trouble you not
- Those gentle bruised shadows that dance for me.

© Strauss
10th June 2006