1.
Your shadow twinned you to the garden wall
Before your final going. Now, at will,
The wall recites your shadow to me still
As, stone on mortared stone, your outlines fall
Exactly into seeming. I stare
At nothing there
And see it all.

2.
Polished, chiseled, piled,
Beautifully abused,
The stone at its core remains
Undisturbed, unused.

Strung gems, the heavy anchor
Leashed to the convict's chain,
The Sphinx -- each tightly sings
The selfsame hard refrain:

"Unfeeling, I endure."
Just so the pebble lies,
Aloof in soaking rain,
Indifferent to the skies.

Such bleak placidity
Of ever-smoothing skin
Never lets a drop
Of caring enter in.

3.
Skin-deep, your shadow stirs, but cannot lure
Its author back; nor can my mind release
Its fancies yet, unclasp a myth, police
The wayward hope. I turn to stone, endure
The trickeries of light, and face
My shadowed place
In stony peace.