It seems I’m always on my own,
And yet I never am;
It’s not as if I were a stone
Or else some closed-up clam.

I breathe the air, both in and out,
And frolic in the sun,
And, through it all, I gad about
As much as anyone.

It’s just that no one seems to tread
Within my fairy ring;
I think they think I’m off my head
Or some such sort of thing.

And yet I share my godliness
With everyone, no more, no less.

Photo by Dewang Gupta on Unsplash

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