Quilting the Poems

The Flickering Shadow

There, on the fringes, the Shadow hides,
cringing as waves of laughter swirls and slides,
envious of the once-friends-now-strangers
their spouses eyeing for lurking dangers.

Some years ago this shadow used to dance
without any care about the world's stance,
fluid, at ease with the inane chatter,
nothing could scratch her, let alone shatter.

She'd lend her life to the dying flames,
filling them with joy and love for their names.
But now, she waits for a spark of magic
to ignite the web of fate so tragic.

Once a fire, now a flickering flame,
she lingers for someone to lay their claim,
but night ends with the blanket of chill:
she leaves, squalid goodbyes her only thrill.