What animal you are or whether you are an animal, I am too dumb to tell. Some moments, I feel you've come out of the earth, out of some cool white stone deep down in the earth. Or there brushes past and lurks in a corner the thought that you slipped from a tree when the earth stopped spinning, that a blue shell brought you when the sea tired waltzing. You might be a mouse, the dryad of a woodpecker, or a pure tiny fish dream; you might be something dropped from the sky, not a god-child — I wouldn't have you that — nor a cloud — though I love clouds. You're something not a bird, I can tell. If I could find you somewhere outside of me, I might tell — but inside? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE COTTER'S SATURDAY NIGHT by ROBERT BURNS WRITTEN UNDER THE INFLUENCE OF DELIRIUM by WILLIAM COWPER THE SONG OF SHERMAN'S ARMY by CHARLES GRAHAM HALPINE ON THE DEPARTURE PLATFORM by THOMAS HARDY FOUR PRELUDES ON PLAYTHINGS OF THE WIND by CARL SANDBURG THE DAY-DREAM: THE SLEEPING BEAUTY by ALFRED TENNYSON |