wanderer,  passing through

I pass that aging fence
And I pass this painted window
And then when I stop at the corner
I wonder why the door is open there

Shadows move from space to place
Leaving only mysteries in their wake
And I, the wanderer passing through
Can only keep going, never knowing what you do

I collect small stones, an acorn, a snail
Through the field, across the river
And then when I pause to wash my face
I wonder where the water is going down below

Shadows move from space to place
Snatching lingering thoughts in their wake
And I, the wonderer passing by your rocking chair
Can only step lightly there, whispering secrets to the hare

I feed the cats, scratch their backs
I pull the curtains closed
And when I snuggle down beneath the stars
I wonder, if the souls out there hear what I hear
What they’re doing and if they care

As their shadows move from space to place
Leaving only mysteries in their wake
And I, the wanderer only passing through
Can only keep going, never knowing what they do