Catching up with her shadow

For a friend, lost, but soon to be found…

Catching up with her shadow


Her mornings started with the same walk

she took from back door to fence and out to


the field that rimmed the property. There she met

herself on the return and never spoke more than


the simplest of hellos. She left that to the meadow,

slowly sun-soaked and ready for feet and the hamstrings of early day.


She’d walked this way before,

aloof, spendy in compliments mirror-bound.


It helped her face a faceless day, reflected back at

her, nose in her face.


The answer came when she looked and, for the first time, saw

only smoke, a haze of unknowing.


It perplexed and fascinated, stunned and silenced

the breath yet to draw. Then she turned away


just long enough to guess at what she’d seen.

Enough time had passed to make return possible.


Now, the smell of time in her nostrils, the caress of grace

under her feet, she returned in time to 


catch up with her own shadow.


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