VII. Shadows
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VII. Shadows
VIII
SHADOWS
That somebody, my own special one,
Even his shadow and his voice are loved.
His foot fall even! But what can I do?
That other one, O how I hate his shadow!
His shirt is fine and white, his hat is gray,
His leggings and his shoes are beaded bright,
His neckerchief is gay and yellow—but
For all his clothes, his face, his face is black!
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