I am that unexpected curl of mist,
Neither earth-locked silent shroud
Nor the white on blue of skyward cloud.
I am the creature of the woodland edge,
Not of the darkened forest sealed,
Nor of the sunlit open field.
I am that thing of the tidal rim,
Not of the deepest ocean reach,
Nor of the land beyond the beach.
I am the one of boundaries bound,
Not of the shifting, faceless crowd,
The leader’s voice that cries aloud,
I am the unbelonging.