Roger Singer

the shadow

staggers behind

 

out of rhythm

humming a song

no one ever heard

 

there were times

of shadow separation

crossing the line

a string of walk-a-ways

never followed through

or followed up

 

and the lack of respect

the disinterest toward the

shadow

spending time

leaning, fading back,

crossing over

or through puddles

 

but it yet stays

with extra hands to help

and legs to run

and shoulders to

accept grief

 

inescapable passion

bonds them.