SHADOW PUPPETS

First published in January 2022

Trees jive
in the bitter wind
shadow puppets
strings lost in the gloom
performing
a macabre dance
as night falls.

Widow women
sob, tears teetering
on their cheeks
like snow-pearls
as they trudge towards
the winter woods
scissors in hand.

The mad music
is too much to bear
and they remember
when jazz was king,
when they danced with
their men until dawn
reddened the sky.

In full black skirts
they twist and twirl
beneath the trees
snapping at shadows
to bring puppets
to their knees, dead
men from their graves.