photo credit: Eleni Preza
Lorna Crozier
God of Shadows
Has a soft spot for twins. For blue hours of snow, for cumulous that drag their doubles across the ripening wheat, for Goths who wear nothing but black. Though he’s without substance this god throws a lot of weight. Stretching out his arms in the sky he can spread a shadow big enough to canopy a mid-sized town, a city ghetto. He just needs motivation and a contract with the light. To distract us from his less-than-sunny disposition, his partnership with death, he switches the setting from the darkened valley of Psalm 23 to a treeless field where shade is cast only by the giant wheel of a tractor. Late August in that cool limbate circle, a man and woman unroll sandwiches from a dish towel, open a tall red thermos, and eat and drink, a collie-cross who will outlast panting at their feet.
God of Shadows
Has a soft spot for twins. For blue hours of snow, for cumulous that drag their doubles across the ripening wheat, for Goths who wear nothing but black. Though he’s without substance this god throws a lot of weight. Stretching out his arms in the sky he can spread a shadow big enough to canopy a mid-sized town, a city ghetto. He just needs motivation and a contract with the light. To distract us from his less-than-sunny disposition, his partnership with death, he switches the setting from the darkened valley of Psalm 23 to a treeless field where shade is cast only by the giant wheel of a tractor. Late August in that cool limbate circle, a man and woman unroll sandwiches from a dish towel, open a tall red thermos, and eat and drink, a collie-cross who will outlast panting at their feet.