Who?

There’s only one in light of day.

They follow me where ever I go;

they’re always with me this I know.

Sometimes one and sometimes more

tonight I counted there were four.

Always one comes from the moon;

he walks beneath, what a loon.

Sometimes they follow, sometimes lead;

but never there at want or need.

Who are these folk who follow me?

They hold me close, I’m never free.

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About a foolhardy florilegium

Nullius addictus iurare in verba magistri, quo me cumque rapit tempestas, deferor hospes.
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