Wind in Dry Grass

“Shape without form, shade without colour,

Paralyzed force, gesture without meaning”

“[They are the hollow men/ [they] are the stuffed men/ leaning together/ headpiece filled with straw.” They are “stuffed men,” but they are filled with something as futile as straw. They are stuffed to the brim with meaningless material. The hollow men are afraid of the nothingness that they are composed of, however meaning is what they desire most in life.

The hollow men spend their lives “going ‘round the prickly pear,” in a monotonous circle afraid to fall out of line to find meaning. They are afraid that what they find might not be meaningful at all in reality, and none of them are brave enough to find out. They are trapped “between the idea/ and the reality,” and fall into the bleak emptiness that the shadow brings, and allow their lives to be as “quiet and meaningless/ As wind in dry grass/ Or rat’s feet over broken glass/ In our dry cellar.”