The shadow walking past
Where there used to be a bakery
Lifts his hand and the shadow
On a bench rises and joins him
They travel down Middleneck Road
In no great hurry. From a gazebo
Two shadows emerge; another one
Has been admiring the trees
Near the library's duck pond
But becomes part of the procession.
A learned shadow leaves the synagogue
Arguing with fugitives from Snediker Avenue.
An old shadow gets off the 8:17 from Penn Station;
The conductor hesitates;tears one last ticket
Before admitting he too is a shadow.
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