We all set off
from very young
walking  toward
the setting sun.

I’m shadow led
but, the path is fair
and I gladly follow…
till
Round…
       and round
in the mid-day glare
my shadow’s gone.

It’s there… fallen at my feet,
with my thirst full
in the mid-day heat that
   I must decide:
   To allow my  shade
   to lead me back
   Or from this moment on to
       proceed from here
       and drag my shadow along
       and move
…towards the cicada song
and the  setting  sun
…to drag this coat along
as it lengthens in the dying dusk.

My shadow can no longer lead me
it is a different light
that leads me now
As I move, on arthritic feet
toward that place
of the evening dew