But I would rather be horizontal. I am not a tree with my root in the soil Sucking up minerals and motherly love So that each March I may gleam into leaf, Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted,
Unknowing I must soon unpetal. Compared with me, a tree is immortal And a flower-head not tall, but more startling. And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring.
Tonight, in the infinitesimallight of the stars, The trees and the flowers have been strewing their cool odors..
I walk among them, but none of them are noticing.
Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping I must most perfectly resemble them- Thoughts gone dim.
It is more natural to me, lying down. Then the sky and I are in open conversation, And I shall be useful when I lie down finally: Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.