Monday, October 10, 2011

Like Alice...

Like Alice, I am tall or small
and, falling, change like leaves to gold.
Arriving at the Hatter’s Tea
I smile, and chat, and quite agree
no one has ever seen me old,
and yet I’ve grown.

And you are there at chess with me
although I never learned the game.
We bow and change from square to square,
trying to see beyond the board.
Nothing’s the same.

Then I am on the path alone.
The Cheshire smile is fading fast;
the rabbit’s clock is running slow.
I don’t know where I need to go.
Still I watch the plot unfold,
just because I’m never told
what happens next.

1 comment:

Anonymous said...

A wonderful poem, even if I didn't love the source.

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