On a day in early spring

I heard the birds sing

As we walked together

Through this ever-changing weather.

 

And as we walked

I wished to talk

With you my dear old friend.

 

But it was my shadow

That walked in sunshine

For you have crossed   the line

Where all things end.

 

I cannot cry

Or go where you have gone,

Yet our friendship lives on

 

And one day I will become

A shadow in sun

And shade

For life is made

Of fleeting shadows

 

 

And I know

That I must one day go

Were you have gone.

 

 

But other men

May see my shadow

Walking beside them

And know me

And their own mortality.