I would like to be a dot in a painting by Miro.
Barely distinguishable from other dots,
it's true, but quite uniquely placed.
And from my dark centre
I'd survey the beauty of the linescape
and wonder -- would it be worthwhile
to roll myself towards the lemon stripe,
Centrally poised, and push my curves
against its edge, to give myself
a little attention?
But it's fine where I am.
I'll never make out what's going on
around me, and that's the joy of it.
The fact that I'm not a perfect circle
makes me more interesting in this world.
People will stare forever --
Even the most unemotional get excited.
So here I am, on the edge of animation,
a dream, a dance,a fantastic construction,
A child's adventure.
And nothing in this tawny sky
can get too close, or move too far away.