shadow people

The shadow people came late one Monday afternoon
and tread quietly on my ceiling
innocuously feeling about the space
before turning the lights on and then off
and then on again
until finally settling on a dimmed fixed setting
that matched the humming comfort of the A.C. unit,
and I did not mind nor contemplate nor envisage in the slightest
because I had left the window open
and the day outside illuminated still,
the way a fall hour careens about
the winds of seasons prior,
easily enveloped in a fermata of circumstance,
startled only briefly
by the subtle sound of splashing
in a nearby reflecting pool.