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Contented with my earthly lot, My soul rejoicing sings Until I gaze into the sky- Then through my mind there rings That saddest of all earthly thoughts: Why do not pigs have wings? When unimportant birds and bugs And bats and other things Can soar and wheel and flit, and know The joy that flying brings- Why is the pig denied the air? Why do not pigs have wings? My feet must stay upon the ground In all my wanderings. Yet still desire fills all my heart With anxious questionings- If even men have learned to fly, Why can't this pig have wings? "But do you really want to fly?" asked the cat. "Fly? Goodness, no! Why should I?" "But thats what your poem is about." "Oh, you don't understand," said Freddy. "Thats just something I wanted in the poem, not something I really wanted. I just made myself think I wanted it so I could have something to write about." |