A Queer Thing

I’ve got a shadow — and I think
It looks like when I spilled the ink,
And made a spot upon the floor
That won’t come off forevermore.

The first time that I noticed it,
I was astonished, I admit.
I wondered what that thing could be
That went along in front of me!

They tell me that because the sun
Can’t shine through me, or anyone,
I make this shadow on the land.
But how, I do not understand.

So when the sun is shining clear,
My shadow’s always somewhere near;
And every little thing I do
My shadow goes and does it too.

And if my shadow’s not in sight,
In front of me, or left, or right,
I quickly turn about and find
My shadow tagging on behind.

And sometimes it is thin and tall
Along the grass or on the wall.
And sometimes it is short and fat;
And always it is very flat.

It never makes the slightest sound
To let me know that it is round;
And cloudy days I look in vain
For it. I guess it fears the rain.