ME AND MY SHADOWS

Imprints of my soul follow me.
a numinous presence in a parade of two.
Peripatetic pals, fallen stars that follow my lead.

They’re lanky or short, lucid and serene,
under rays of morning sunbeams,
silhouettes upon the sidewalk.

I wouldn’t go anywhere without them nearby.
Their gait is familiar and they’re not very shy.

Sometimes they get an attitude
depending on the sun’s azimuth and altitude.

They’re saints and sinners, like everybody else,
But can spook a stallion to toss a rider toward the sky.

They’re doppelganger guards, bound to my body.

Their evanescent penumbras must have been sent
by the invisible light of angels: walking dreams
of utmost sublimity, both reservoirs of darkness
and a sea of creativity.

They’re steadfast and loyal as loving brothers,
transparent as long as sunlight glows.

They hover like Secret Service men or Jewish mothers,
moving in tandem as only ballroom dancers can.

Even in the hurly-burly of 42nd street, they never vanish,
tip-toeing around the canyons of the City wherever sun exists.

With no personas of their own, these apparitions
can stay close to me, and will always be my friends.

I wouldn’t go anywhere without my talismans.
They ease the loneliness of the final dark.