I have a little shadow that goes in and out with me,
And what can be the use of him is more than I can see.
He is very, very like me from the paws up to the head;
And I see him jump before me, when I jump into my bed.
The funniest thing about him is the way he likes to grow
Not at all like proper kitty’s, which is always very slow;
For he sometimes shoots up higher like an blue yarn ball,
And he sometimes gets so little that there’s none of him at all.
He hasn’t got a notion of how kittens ought to play,
And can only make a fool of me in every sort of way.
He stays so close beside me, he’s a coward you can see;
I’d think shame to stick to mommy as that shadow sticks to me!
One morning, very early, before the sun was up,
I rose and found the shining dew on every buttercup;
But my lazy little shadow, like an arrant sleepy head,
Had stayed at home behind me and was fast asleep in bed.
Source: The Golden Book of Poetry (1947)
