The Shadow over the past few years i have had a strange habit every day at three in the morning i walk out barefooted into the yard i grope the walls as if drinking out of their silence i lean against the trunk of a palmtree and listen to all sorts of stories it tells me while it soothes me with the air off its palm last night it told me i had been born one autumn day around the same time it had been planted there was nothing green in our home then except this tree and mother's eyes it remembers her every now and then she had a warm touch she had a peaceful shadow which never made any noise she would often wash its leaves so all the trees around envied it and so it goes on with its stories until the sun is up and when it sees me drowse it pulls out mother's shadow from deep down its roots it hands it over to me and summons the birds to come sing to me until i lie sleeping in her arms…