The First Song

    A potted man all round and cream
        square cap upon his dome
    dreams of wilderness adventure
        forever stays at home

     A woman lean in black and mean
        toiling at her Lothe
    she hones, she gleans, she cuts things clean
        forever is alone

    we cats we watch and learn and think
    we weave around the floor
    we make our lives out of their trash
    and wish for nothing more
    we play and love and sing of Ur
    and scold our dreams to Moon
    the Fates they are but bonds and gags
    Nature has more room
    
A potted man all round and cream
    square cap upon his dome
he ends his days as they began
    oak depends acorn

A woman lean in black and mean
    now shuts off her machine
a turn, a twist, a crack of glass
    all life is so serene