Shadows

"Wasn't that a funny song of blue?"
she said to the long curve of a shadow.
Empty chair beside her
ungraced by any confidant.
Long time since the sun went down,
but shades still un-pulled,
lights not turned on.
Frosted globes hover sincerely in the corner
for the once quick old woman fingers
to spring them into their usual buzzing.
But no springing.
Just the dimness.
"Oh yes, of blue."
She says, and turns her head.
The long curve of a shadow
splits the white wall
like a scythe.