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Now I Am a Plant a Weed

Now I am a plant, a weed,

Bending and

On a rocky ledge;

And now I am a long brown

Fluttering like flame;

I am a reed;

An old shell

For ever the same;

A drift of sedge;

A white, white stone;

A bone;

Until I

Into sand again,

And spin and

To and fro, to and fro,

On the edge of the

In the fading light—     For the light fades.

But if you were to come you would not say:"She is not waiting here for me;

She has forgotten."  Have we not in

Disguised ourselves as weed and stones and

While the strange ships did

Gently, gravely, leaving a curl of

That uncurled softly about our island home,

Bubbles of foam that glittered on the

Like rainbows?  Look, darling!  No, they are gone.

And the white sails have melted into the sailing sky…

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Katherine Mansfield

Kathleen Mansfield Murry (née Beauchamp; 14 October 1888 – 9 January 1923) was a prominent modernist writer who was born and brought up in New Z…
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