Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair where I sit:
There isn't any other stair quite like it.
I'm not at the bottom,
I'm not at the top:
So this is the stair where I always stop.
Halfway up the stairs
Isn't up, and isn't down.
It isn't in the nursery, it isn't in the town:
And all sorts of funny thoughts
Run round my head:
"It isn't really anywhere! It's somewhere else instead!"
4 comments:
I don't remember having seen that Milne piece before -- it so wonderfully captures a childlike (or doglike, much the same) perspective. Your picture, is perfect for the poem (or maybe it's the other way around.) That's Destry, right, not Ziwa?
One of the animals here, Fonzie the addled Abyssinian, has a favorite kind of place to hang out: in and around food-prep items (like the pot he's in for the initial post in my blog.) I don't think Milne ever wrote about sitting in eggbaskets, though.
Well, I must admit that as I read the first two lines I expected
Halfway down the stairs
Is a stair where I sit
And think about you and me. . .
But then I'm more familiar with Milne through the Jefferson Airplane than directly. I suppose this betrays an unforgivable state of willful cultural illiteracy. . .
Much of Western Culture is based on the writings of A.A. Milne. You do not have to believe that a stuffed bear can talk in order to find the work compelling and necessary.
Ooh! Ooh! Is this where I point out that the inspiration for Winnie-the-Pooh was Canadian?
smugly,
ronnie
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