I am not myself. I’ve never been so,
My shadow and I just follow my feet
Down empty roads beneath the rusty glow.
In thought and solitude I’ll take my seat.
But have no pity, for I am not lost;
I can find parts of myself here and there.
Like here in the lone company of frost,
I sit with the dew drops, silent as prayer.
And I find myself in this little world
Of small falling leaves and a blushing wind;
Of tiny, wet flowers, glinting as pearls-
That which those with companions would have skimmed.
I am not myself, I’ll never be such,
But here and there, I can amount to much.