Faye Sizemore

SHADOWS

His black hair
… is now streaked with grey
a few lines are on his face
but today…
His smile is quick
… his laughter often
His step is brisk…
He greets each day
… equal to any task
… a quiet man
aging with grace…
but sometimes…
in the quiet
… I catch
a fleeting glimpse
of the young warrior
who still lives
… there… in that silent place
… behind
the shadows
… in his brooding eyes

Submitted for the October 2003 IWVPA Club Theme Project, “Shadows”