Maybe that what she is telling me in order to deal with Uncle Paul and Aunt Elizabeth and whomever she has to be someone else. In me she has drowned a young girl, and in me an old woman Rises toward her day after day, like a terrible fish.
By the middle of the second stanza, it is flowing rapidly and does so until the middle of the third, and final, stanza. The dull drums of my pulses beat Against a silence wearing thin. Jim White adapts himself to their culture and he makes himself content by doing so.
Now I am a lake. Most of the time I meditate on the opposite wall. Slowly the pace increases until it becomes quite rapid and smooth. This poem is identical to one of my favourites scenes from the movie "McFarland.
You soon come to get a feel of what the speaker is so reluctant to face. I have looked at it so long I think it is part of my heart.