If I Were Not Me
Were I a bug and lived outside
down viny tendrils I would ride.
The curly tip would stop me, then
I’d fly back up and slide again.
Were I a gooey jellyfish
to swim with friends would be my wish,
to bounce along the ocean floor
and not get stuck upon the shore.
Were I a pretty honeybee,
I’d sip the nectar calling me.
I’d sample sweetness all day long,
while humming my sweet honey song.
Were I a tree, with trees for friends,
I’d wave the leaves from my branch ends,
so each would know I saw their height
and how they reached up toward the light.
down viny tendrils I would ride.
The curly tip would stop me, then
I’d fly back up and slide again.
Were I a gooey jellyfish
to swim with friends would be my wish,
to bounce along the ocean floor
and not get stuck upon the shore.
Were I a pretty honeybee,
I’d sip the nectar calling me.
I’d sample sweetness all day long,
while humming my sweet honey song.
Were I a tree, with trees for friends,
I’d wave the leaves from my branch ends,
so each would know I saw their height
and how they reached up toward the light.
Picture by kind permission of Dayle Olson
Picture by kind permission of Dayle Olson
This poem is copyright (©) Dayle Olson 2024
About the Writer
Dayle Olson
Dayle’s poems are inspired by watching birds and animals near the river town of Cathlamet, Washington. She recently was invited to read one of her poems at a Poetry Competition in Felixstowe, England. She likes to wear old-fashioned hats and have friends over for tea and biscuits. When she’s not being bossed around by two cats, Kitty and Town Crier, she enjoys drawing pictures with her grandchildren.
