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.
Copyright © Mark Peterson | Year Posted 2020
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