Question

Does anyone have ANY ideas of what the situation or context of the following poem is?

"Is the Pathetic Fallacy True?" by Elizabeth Brewster

When I was a child
the stones were living.
Hot under my hand, they felt like flesh,
and sands slipped through my fingers
with a caress.

Yes, everything was alive:

the clumsy, roaring wind
stepped on the flounced pink dress
of the apple-tree
tearing it to shreds

the puffed cheeks of clouds

the brook with its pebbled tongue
and the hoarse old grave old sea
its gravelly song

and earth itself
a brown warm girl
turning and tanning in the sun.

All false, all wrong,
somebody told me:
Winds are not lovers,
clumsy or gentle.
There's no blood
in stones,
no tears in water.

Nevertheless
sometimes lately when I touch a chair or table
I think I feel atoms stir
under my fingers

and at night in dreams I hear
the small remote voices of grains of dust
or inaudible whispers of stars

as they will speak to me some time
when I lie with the living grass above me
and the wind my old lover
singing me to sleep

and to wake

Answer 1

@YoloShroom @yayrocks23 @StudyGuy2019Tim @ashtonfoshee @alysiaduncan00
anyone any ideas I'm so stuck:(

Answer 2

Unsure, sorry bud.

Answer 3

thanks

Answer 4

@jigglypuff314 what do you think

Answer 5

@.Sam. @hartnn