Poem 28. Shadow

My sadness is a shadow attached at the feet,

that stretches long at dusk, and disappears under the noon sun.

I can't shake it off or remove it,

can't hide it or run from it.

Stretching to the top of my head, waiting to creep up into my soul,

waiting to blot out the sun from my heart.

Taking my exact shape, my voice, my hands,

Becoming me, or the absence of me,

since a shadow is where the sun does not hit.

When the sun shines on my face, I know the shadow is growing behind me.

So all my joys is numbered, weighed, and measured.