I looked over my right shoulder
and there;
a triangular patch,
the last of the sun,
50 feet off the ground,
amongst leaves,
saying to me,
“When you look,
how many of your cells
act as eyes?”
…I rushed inside
to tell you.
I looked over my right shoulder
and there;
a triangular patch,
the last of the sun,
50 feet off the ground,
amongst leaves,
saying to me,
“When you look,
how many of your cells
act as eyes?”
…I rushed inside
to tell you.