"Call Them Shadows", Said The Widowmaker

widowmaker- a thing with the potential to kill men

painting the barn red ochre,

cheap and plentiful,

because of the nuclear

fusion of dying stars.

at 56 nucleons energy ceases,

making iron so plentiful.

stars become shadows!

that anterior branch

of the left coronary artery,

call it  the widowmaker!

that precarious branch

perched high in a tree,

call it the widowmaker!

no one smokes cigerillos anymore

but that drop dead gorgeous assassin,

forget that ash that burned her thigh,

call her the widowmaker!

he told her his dream

about the house of columns

surrounded by the owl’s parliament,

he told her about the case

of owl versus man, or was it murder?

painting the barn red ochre,

she wondered how plentiful iron could be.

they had caught the thug

and now no one comes around

because there is no noun,

no word for bereaved parents...

six months later all they heard

was, “just be glad they caught him”.

first she lost her only born son,

then slowly his father...

to lose his boy, his namesake, his best friend,

“this might be worse”, said the widowmaker.

a red glow came from inside,

we are shadows of our former selves.

she shouted, “shadow, call me shadow!”

be glad they caught the shadowmaker!

painting the barn red ochre he turned into his shadow.

shadow- an area of darkness created when a source of light is blocked