My Little Shadow

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My Little Shadow

Bright yellow eyes stare at me from a corner.
They wait
and then they rush off leaving a smoke gray trail.
Another corner to peer around.
Is it a game you want?
Watching,
back arching,
tail held high,
and the Shadow is off again.
Waiting around another post, wall, or door
For me to resume play.

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The true philosopher and the true poet are one, and a beauty, which is truth, and a truth, which is beauty, is the aim of both.

Ralph Waldo Emerson, American Poet (1803-1882)

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