Colin F. Jones

SHADOW

Sit by me. At noon become my guest,
Your silent presence is my soul’s request:
I see your outline in the darkness shown,
Where I am ever thinking all alone.
Hermitized, reclucified and made,
By time translucent in the quiet shade,
And I with you in dark waters bathe,
And scribble rhyme in a solitary cave.
When all the memories on the gentle breeze,
Of brothers lost are carried through the trees,
Each a leaf dropping with a spear-like tips,
That through my isolation cut and rip.
And you distraught attempt to run away,
But you are my shadow and must with me stay.