There are four of my by street lamp light--
A parade of shadows dance by
So that no one knows their own lonliness.
When I raise one arm, when I take a step,
Four arms and four feet all stride or reach
In a holy unison--yes, almost divine
(almost a Trinity, give or take a few).
The people, the people in the cold street lamp light
All open their arms to their shadows around,
But where can they go? Where can they go?
There are only more shadow-crowded streets
And thousands of street lamps
Whose light rends the shadow from the feet
Like the soul from the body.