In Shadow

It is cool, though the sun shines. A million pieces I can see and off the whole thing I can’t know but I know what I know and I speak it forth and she
She. She listens and smiles. This she calls love. And so I jump and run and I can dance a day of motion to and fro up my moving thoughts in motion thunk and he
He. He watches and corrects. This he calls love.
Is warmness hate? Is discipline a kiss? I like the one not the other but he smiles too when I play well. In is cool in my father’s shadow where my mother and my brother are. I am content. They use words to mean things and I try it too. They laugh when I speak cleverly. This I call love. It is cool because he stands in the way of the sun. He blocks my view of what is out there.
Why? He is harsh. I can do wrong easily and good only rarely. She offers comfort at first, but she is in shadow too. I will put this away for another time.
Long enough I stay until I must leave his coldness drives me away. I love my brother but he is not yet ready. She is silent on what I would have her say.
It is long ago I left my father’s shadow. I miss the shade dearly. Bitterly I long for his reproach. Now I am alone and do not know the way. The little ones in my shadow play, and I fear nothing but the day they cast shadows of their own.