It’s not my failing eyesight,
To see dusk not daylight,
And see the dawn before night,
To live in a world of half light.

Yet sometimes I feel lost
Pressed in by a moving forest
Of those taller than me
Whose shadows they can’t see.
Looking through that half darkness
Listening to what isn’t said
Letting silence draw the truth out
Discerning truth felt but unspoken
I see them so sure and certain
As they think so themselves
Until I see first the shadows change
Just before they teeter and fall
I try and catch them first
But mostly I miss and fail.