Monday, February 04, 2008

Richard Wilbur

A Measuring Worm

This yellow striped green
Caterpillar, climbing up
The steep window screen,

Constantly (for lack
Of a full set of legs) keeps
Humping up his back.

It’s as if he sent
By a sort of semaphore
Dark omegas meant

To warn of Last Things.
Although he doesn’t know it,
He will soon have wings,

And I, too, don’t know
Toward what undreamt condition
Inch by inch I go.

source - The New Yorker - 04/02/2008


Collin said...

I like that.

Nick said...

The last stanza hit so close to home that I had to post the poem.

Actually, this is the first poem that I've read, in some time, as I needed to "shift gears" - so to speak - for a while.

vegetablej said...

I like it too. Especially the simple language, and the last line. Wish wings were in store for me. :)

Nick said...

Hi, vj. Glad you liked. Re: the wings - you never know.

Brian Campbell said...

I liked this poem too.