March 23, 2015 
My reflection
and my shadow are
the only friends I know–
the one confined,
to glass that shines,
the last to shiny sol–
all the same
they can’t be blamed
they’re escorts on the go.
I’m fostering the former
behind a pair
of Shades–
foster grants,
ensure the cant,
of double in charade–
and if they crack,
they can refract,
rainbows that won’t fade.
I’m walking with the latter
not under,
but around…
‘turn back to sun,
since sun’s the one,
to brighten what’s on ground–
the light and dark,
are 1 apart,
and in this fashion–bound.
©Karen Robiscoe
Charron's Chatter 