Invisible in the night if it were not for the sun’s reflection sliding off its oil-like slicked wings. Lucid dreams fuel its flight carrying it from nest to knowledge. Openly it “caws,” almost vanishing while it waits for an echo from any other shadow that also drips in the same iridescence. Verily it believes that even in the smoke and fog there are feathers that can complement its own. Escaping it seems is not an option so it paints the keys to the cage that has captured it with colors and forms that validate, express, and free its existence.
Yearning to be understood and appreciated but careful not to be dependent or unrealistic, the “caws” become progressively internalized. Outside contradictory conditions are swallowed until it is too heavy to carry the weight. Unbelievably, it’s shadow just happens to fall into the buttons of a straw-like character hung on a pole riddled with feathers much like its own.