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The Shadow Play Master

the shadow play master’s
slender but crooked fingers
and neat paper silhouettes
grow and shrink for the last time
on the wall inside the brick building

oak brass tea steam
phlegmatic applause
the master makes his exit
while charming charlatan
with wild duck in basket
makes his appearance

door creaks fox flees into bush
coach passes by copper lamppost
three afghan hounds run after the coach
their paws hardly touch the ground

the frost fog in the grove
icy through respiratory tract
the shadow play master’s green coat
with black pompoms
becomes visible through the fog
but not his flour white complexion

hoarfrost on nostril hair
pine needles become blue
only frost no snow yet.

© Jenny Enochsson 2019

This is a revised version of a poem I wrote in 2010. The Swedish version is called "Skuggspelsmästaren".


  1. "the master makes his exit
    while charming charlatan
    with wild duck in basket
    makes his appearance"

    Why do this feel like our time? This is a masterwork on many levels.
    "the frost fog in the grove
    icy through respiratory tract"
    it’s beautiful and also almost terrible in its gothic feeling, like the forest in the last December light just before the temperature drops snow covers it all, or Forever Changes, I think I am saying that I get a double edged feeling. And that is precisely why this is a masterpiece.

  2. Thanks Ande! I think the coming of frost and cold can be both magical and terrible.

  3. Hi Jenny! Long time since we met! I have been bussie wih all kinds of things in Finland. So beautiful things like diving and eating macrell. I have a new blog be sure to visit And it was a wonderful poem. I really loved it. It was deep and kind of surreal. I have been i therapy for a while too. And wwent to English class to clean up my act so to speak. So now I'm back in Sweden.

  4. Hi Jukka! Long time no see. Good to hear from you. Glad you liked the poem. I visited your blog, but there were no posts there yet. Stay safe.

  5. Hi Jukka & Jenny! I have a new blog!
    And hiAnde as well. ;) This is a very good poem. Oh man, the times. I have not left Copenhagen but I feel I have been over the world and back. I love that town. And you are not allowed to travel this days. Anyway, nice to see you!!!!!! I love the old Rufous. Wha'ts happening there? I am somewhat bored by this virus. So, show me something thats happening.

  6. Hi Lise! Thanks for stopping by. My last comment to you just disappeared. Grr. Glad you like the poem. Nothing happens at Rufous at the moment. Feel free to post there and make the blog more active. :) Yes, the times are weird. I wish Sweden had not taken a soft approach to the c problem. Norway and Finland handles it much better.


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