Fallacy 

A shadow cast by something invisible  
falls on the white cover of a book  
lying on my table, untraceable 
shade twisting faintly upwards 
like smoke . . . but beyond the window  
there is nothing, just this unseen 
thing rising between me and the light  
of the morning sun coming in  
strong as a messenger from God,  
like the shadow of St. Raphael  
as he used to stand unseeable 
by the dazzling waters of Bethesda,  
and I look away to find everything else  
has suddenly dimmed.
 Perhaps
it was only shades of summer heat 
rising off the pavers, and not 
an Angel of the Lord, but for the life  
of me I cannot see a single reason  
why it couldn’t have been both. 

—J.C. Scharl