A Shadow Walks Beside Me

A shadow walks beside me in the sun— faithful companion, mimicking my every move. Through the decades of my life, I scarcely noticed little changes in his form. He seems just a bit shorter now and stooped slightly at the waist—moving slower than before. Now I find he is also not so near and one hand mimicks the shake of my own hand. Where does that come from? Hardly see him anymore, as I sit here in my room. But friends and dear ones gather round. I seldom feel alone. I tug now at my shadow, for he shuffles more than walks, as I spend more time outside, walking in the sun, finding purpose in my days. Still my shadow struggles but works hard as any friend— never giving up. Someday, I suppose, I'll finally get a new one.