What am I if not a pattern of manhood? What should I be if not a dimension of silence? I have suffered my pattern, and the last of it will be the beginning of life in the ground of ants and grubs or in workings of the rain. I will have become indifferent and detached, without fear, no longer envious but happy as a spark at night. I will be gone into the dark, my real mother. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A CHILD'S EVENING PRAYER by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE ANNIVERSARY [ANNIVERSARIE] by JOHN DONNE ON THE RUINS OF A COUNTRY INN by PHILIP FRENEAU THE RUBAIYAT, 1879 EDITION: 7 by OMAR KHAYYAM SA-CA-GA-WE-A; THE INDIAN GIRL WHO GUIDED LEWIS AND CLARK by EDNA DEAN PROCTOR |