The Shadow After Sunset

At night, the town dreamed of snow.
A man went indoors in every dream;
his shadow stayed on the steps.
In the morning, one black outline
was printed on the real snow.

Someone carried out a lamp
to prove the dream was over.
The shadow reached it first.
The handle filled with fingers.
The lamp went out.

By noon the shadow lay across three streets.
People pushed towels beneath their doors
and watched the black creep through the weave.
Upstairs, a child stood on a chair
while something climbed the wooden legs.

At dusk, the man returned
with snow packed underneath his nails.
Every sleeper woke in the dark;
behind the man, every chair
stood upside down on the table.