There is shadow under this red rock,
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock),
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust.

Who is the third who walks always beside you?
When I count, there are only you and I together
But when I look ahead up the white road
There is always another

"That corpse you planted last year in your garden,
Has it begun to sprout? Will it bloom this year?"

These fragments I have shored against my ruins