My shadow -- <br />I woke to a wind swirling the curtains light and dark <br />and the birds twittering on the roofs, I lay cold <br />in the early light in my room high over London. <br />What fear was it that made the wind sound like a fire <br />so that I got up and looked out half-asleep <br />at the calm rows of street-lights fading far below? <br />Without fire <br />Only the wind blew. <br />But in the dream I woke from, you <br />came running through the traffic, tugging me, clinging <br />to my elbow, your eyes spoke <br />what I could not grasp -- <br />Nothing, if you were here! <br /> <br />The wind of the early quiet <br />merges slowly now with a thousand rolling wheels. <br />The lights are out, the air is loud. <br />It is an ordinary January day. <br />My shadow, do you hear the streets? <br />Are you at my heels? Are you here? <br />And I throw back the sheets. <br /> <br /> <br />Anonymous Submission<br /><br />Edwin Morgan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/absence-3/
