Willie Metcalf

I was Willie Metcalf.         They used to call me "Doctor Meyers,"         Because, they said, I looked like him.         And he was my father, according to Jack McGuire.         I lived in the livery stable,         Sleeping on the floor         Side by side with Roger Baughman's bulldog,         Or sometimes in a stall.         I could crawl between the legs of the wildest horses         Without getting kicked - we knew each other.          On spring days I tramped through the country         To get the feeling, which I sometimes lost,         That I was not a separate thing from the earth.         I used to lose myself, as if in sleep,         By lying with eyes half-open in the woods.         Sometimes I talked with animals - even toads and snakes -         Anything that had an eye to look into.         Once I saw a stone in the sunshine         Trying to turn into jelly.         In April days in this cemetery         The dead people gathered all about me,         And grew still, like a congregation in silent prayer.         I never knew whether I was a part of the earth         With flowers growing in me, or whether I walked -         Now I know.