Shadow

As I walk through the door

In a flower garden

I turn around and to my sight I see

A grey thing moving at me

It repeats whatever is done

To whoever is alive

I ask the lord, who is that man

And all he says back is

For that is a shadow

A peaceful shadow, indeed

But, I said, what is a shadow

For I have never heard of such a thing

All a shadow is, my dear

Is a grey thing that does whatever, whoever does.

Reviews

[neurostar burns]

Clearly you have some wit! Very clever at illustrating what one feels in the quixotic way the world is
seen. That wit can help you stand out.