Sitting out under the stars
On this first night of July,
Thoughts were running wildly,
As I silently wondered why.
It seemed it all was upside down,
Or maybe inside out,
My voice was but a whisper,
When I really wanted to shout.
Maybe the tall was really short,
Was I running or standing still,
Maybe the dog was really a cat,
Was that a duck or a finch with a bill?
Were those really stars falling,
Or just floaters in my eye,
When I look down and see the grass,
Am I sure it's not the sky?
Is this a sea of confusion,
Or pond of tranquility,
Am I really sure where I am,
Or if I'm even me?
Maybe it's really winter,
And I've been sitting in snow,
Maybe if I just go to bed,
When I wake tomorrow I'll know.