True Shadow

I stepped down from the patio threshold and tracked across the warm brick toward the stone pedestal in the garden. Mounted flush to the weathered limestone was a circular cast-bronze sundial. I climbed the carved mortar grooves, hauling myself onto the flat plate. At the center rose a thick triangular gnomon, dark and unyielding. The overhead light drove a sharp, clean wedge of shadow straight across the carved numeral one. I placed both hands against the bronze fin, feeling its dense weight anchored to the rock. Grounded beneath the sun. I sank into a solid crouch along the shadow's edge and watched the quiet yard hold firm.