Shadows Along the Way As my eyes focus, They find confusion In an endless box of sight and sound. A simple creation, A mass delusion The quasi-intellectual hang around. Perhaps in days Both distant and bright, We once held something truly new. But, in this era Of technological splendor The luster seems to fade from view. The sun still sits high, According to Chet, My weather informant of the day. So I'll take his word, And quietly imagine The shadows painted along the way. Of the paths, I once walked, And the dogs that had barked, Their movements trapped in silhouettes. Of the gleaming weather That I used to know better, Riding the air on an old swing set. As my eyes focus They find confusion In an endless box of information. This harmless fun Has replaced the sun, Casting shadows from every station. J.M. Rogers