Wodwo

What am I? Nosing here, turning leaves over

Following a faint stain on the air to the river’s edge

I enter water. What am I to split

The glassy grain of water looking upward I see the bed

Of the river above me upside down very clear

What am I doing here in mid-air? Why do I find

this frog so interesting as I inspect its most secret

interior and make it my own? Do these weeds

know me and name me to each other have they

seen me before, do I fit in their world? I seem

separate from the ground and not rooted but dropped

out of nothing casually I’ve no threads

fastening me to anything I can go anywhere

I seem to have been given the freedom

of this place what am I then? And picking

bits of bark off this rotten stump gives me

no pleasure and it’s no use so why do I do it

me and doing that have coincided very queerly

But what shall I be called am I the first

have I an owner what shape am I what

shape am I am I huge if I go

to the end on this way past these trees and past these trees

till I get tired that’s touching one wall of me

for the moment if I sit still how everything

stops to watch me I suppose I am the exact centre

but there’s all this what is it roots

roots roots roots and here’s the water

again very queer but I’ll go on looking