My Shadow*

  
In the rain or the sun, my shadow still clung
as I busied myself with work and with play.
"What can I do, how can I help."
His little voice spoke throughout the day.

We gathered some sticks, raked a few leaves,
dug in the dirt and pulled clumps of weeds,
"What can I do, how can I help."
He said as he spilled radish seeds.

When I stopped now and then for rest or for drink,
my small shadow worked on to please and to learn.
"Dad, is this how I chop the wood?"
"Just fine" as I tried to show no concern.

At the end of the day when tasks were complete,
we both sat on his bed to share our day's feats.
"See what I did, how I could help?"
These, my shadow's last words, for he fell fast asleep.
               ______________________

* Son Joseph 1976