​Down in the cave Plato imagined,

shackled to the wall

with head and eyes immobilized,

I watch the shadows flit 

and dart across the span of my  

reality, and fall

so silently away. 

I savor momentary bits

 

of sensory experience:

the dampness of the air,

the tickle as a drop of

perspiration trails along

 my cheek, the wafting odor of

the stagnant pools, the rare

and fleeting glimpse of mouse or bat.

I sense the evensong

 

of waning light and of the fading

shadows as my world

descends into its cycle of

impending darkness. Beams

of dusty light slant inward, and

the crimson specters hurled

upon my wall excite the terror

of forbidden dreams.

 

In dreams my weak, atrophied limbs,

of their own accord,

transport me to a mystic realm

of free and open space

where shadows take on substance, and

my new-found life affords

unfathomed freedom! But, I know  

that there is no such place.