My Shadow

Myshadowfollowsclosebehind

With eyes  w i d e shut like blinds

In a house that keep the contents

A mystery- ancient treasures hidden from history.

When the sun s

  e

     t

       s my shadow  s t r e t c h e s

Along the ground  g

                            n

                          i

                       h

                     c

                  a

              e

           r for something

Its hands cannot grasp.

Maybe it’s that peach that could give it a life

Of its own fully ripened and grown on the

Tree in the old man’s front yard.

Maybe it’s my throat that is closetotheground

And soft and red with life contained and trusting

Of something I don’t understand, but that follows me everywhere.