Shadows

Brittany Shipman

Never does the heart break more
than on a chilly winter’s day,
when the hope you once had
becomes a mystery at last,
and the dreams you once dreamt
have all faded away.

Never does the heart yearn more
than on a somber night,
when the full moon illuminates
the starless sky,
waiting for its one true love
to take its place in the morning.

Never does the heart stutter more
than during the foggy dusk,
when the phantom shadows
dance along the rim of the forest,
calling for its friends to come and play
in the mist against the leafy floor.

Never does the heart ache more
than in the early morning,
when the dawn breaks above the horizon
and the cool air nips at your bear skin,
and the birds chirp to announce to the world
that the day has only just begun.

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