Shadows

He pieced her together

In his mind

From bits and pieces,

Dribs and drabs

She offered him,

Sometimes veiled,

Sometimes plain to see,

It was as though

Each revelation

Was a new piece

To lock into the puzzle,

The photos she

Sent out of the blue,

And yet the pieces

Never fully locked

For she was bewitching,

She could spin

And change with

A few words or

None at all,

As if laughing

At a mere mortal

Of a man trying

To pick up the

Shadow of a

Goddess.

Stephen Nesbitt ©

.

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