Yesterday's afternoon sunshine
revealed long shadows of passers-by
and I mourned, lightly,
the lost moments of playing shadow tag with Georgia ss
at three, four, five—
maybe even six.
Now eleven, she's a bit above acknowledging the magic of shadows,
though perhaps it's the frigid air and icy ground
that discourage.
Or is it Nana whose response to cold air
and the long trek home
is not playful but urgent?
Nana's goal is Georgia's warm house.
Nana doesn't do well in the cold.
Nana can admire snowfalls
and Jack Frost's handiwork on windowpanes,
but her admiration takes place
from the safety and relative warmth
of indoors.
Time enough for shadow-play
when the days are longer
and air is milder.
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