In Shadow

Light cannot find me under here
Except the blinding reflections off of the cars
And the little pieces that come through the burlap
I close my eyes and there's even less
It is enough; is it too much?
When the floor is hard and the ceiling is blue,
focus evades my fingers
They can still tap across the letters
reluctantly
And I can still stretch out
seated
But this shadow won't go anywhere
Until the sun goes another twenty degrees
Toward the end of the day