My fellow traveller

I've known you a long time,
In sorrow time and song time,
We're past your peak and my prime
Yet we survive.
I've hated you and loved you
and set myself above you,
Yet martyred memories of you
are still alive.

Mirror of my slow sense,
Charcoal of my incense,
Image of my nonsense
In furtive glance.
So often have you bled me
of stuff of him that bred me,
Your tongue and tango led me
on merry dance.

We tramped the high and low road,
We shared the light and dark load,
And jeered the cautious man mode
of sheltered life.
I found no friend or lover,
No camp to build above her,
No skin or whin to cover
a wanton wife.

You taunted me in June-light
and mocked me in the moonlight,
Deserted me at noon-light
and I did pine.
Yet we wander mile of highway,
Still your way must be my way,
My last day must be thy day,
O shadow mine!