Poem of the Day: L. A. Lindon's Dopplegänger

As a follow-up to yesterday's date-driven discussion of Perec's Palindrome, here is a palindrome of a very different sort: a poem by J. A. Lindon (who was apparently a master of palindromes at all levels) which is a palindrome by lines rather than by letters, that is, the first line and the last line are identical, and so are the second and the penultimate, and so forth. (A form with extremely different problems than the letter-by-letter, or the intermediate word-by-word, palindrome.)

DOPPELGÄNGER

Entering the lonely house with my wife
I saw him for the first time
Peering furtively from behind a bush--
Blackness that moved,
A shape amid the shadows,
A momentary glimpse of gleaming eyes
Revealed in the ragged moon.
A closer look (he seemed to turn) might have
Put him to flight forever--
I dared not
(For reasons that I failed to understand)
Though I knew I should act at once.

I puzzled over it, hiding alone,
Watching the woman as she neared the gate.
He came, and I saw him crouching,
Night after night,
Night after night
He came, and I saw him crouching,
Watching the woman as she neared the gate.

I puzzled over it, hiding alone--
Though I knew I should act at once,
For reasons that I failed to understand
I dared not
Put him to flight forever.

A closer look (he seemed to turn) might have
Revealed in the ragged moon
A momentary glimpse of gleaming eyes,
A shape amid the shadows,
Blackness that moved.

Peering furtively from behind a bush,
I saw him for the first time,
Entering the lonely house with my wife.

-- J. A. Lindon

Update: Text corrected from that at the link, based on pp. 118-119 of Howard W. Bergerson, Palindromes and Anagrams (Dover, 1978).