Hullo, my me.”
Said I to us.
“How now, how now, self of mine?”
Then we replied at the same time:
“Quite well, quite well,
kind sirs, and you?”
“We’re fine, of course.”
Said me two;
And dare I say,
That me and I,
Got along quite well that day.
So ourselves and us agreed to dine
Beneath a shady pine,
And all was fine
While we sipped wine;
‘Twas a merry time.
As midday stretched and slipped within
Persimmon painted slippers,
I turned to us
To ask ourselves,
In a facetious, songly voice:
“Would we and I,
Perhaps - maybe -
Fancy to play a game?”
“Why sure, kind sirs.”
I said - we said.
“What do we have in minds?”
“A game of hide;
A game of seek,
Should promise a good time.”
“Now, count now -
Count now!”
We said to us,
As our giddy selves skipped off to hide.
I hid in wait—
As well, did I—
Until midnight hung
Its purple robe
Above horizon’s yawning dawn.
Alone, I sat;
I sat alone.
Just I and I -
And I.
I sank in sorrow
Betwixt a boulder and a stone,
Alone,
Erasing hopes for my tomorrow.
I lay my head
Against the stone,
Just me -
Just me -
Unfound.
Alone.
Asleep upon, for evermore…
My tomb of lonely stone.