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Nuzzle
We move, forth the grass
Littering our summit
Forth like a fish
Gracefully switching direction
In his bowl, in his bubble
His lonely home of blank water
As he grazes forth his summit
Watching the world twirl
Like a ball upon his nose
Like a spool of his twiny tail
There’s no logic in his laugh
In his grassy lazy summit
In his blank staring bubble
There’s no direction to his dance
For it switches in time in days
Like a lamp, kissing our summit goodnight
Like a fishbowl, kissing us goodnight.
