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