I Like To Wander Off Alone

By Annette Wynne

I like to wander off alone
And climb upon a great tall stone,
And wonder.

I like to wonder at the sky,
The curly cloud that tumbles by;
I like to wonder at the grass
And all the flying things that pass,
I wonder if they wonder, too,
The little things—perhaps they do,
Perhaps they wonder who am I
To stare at them as they pass by;

The curly cloud looks down at me
And wonders, too, what I may be,
A tiny spot, so very small,
The cloud can hardly see at all;
And all the world is wondering
At every other wondering thing,
There’s so much wondering to do,
I wonder if I could get through;
I think perhaps I might some day
If I should never stop for play—
I wonder!

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