And though it was odd and lustrous, with living things nesting and squirming inside, it was too tall and slick for me to climb. Better instead to paddle away, to keep it for myself, to leave it untouched, although it had touched me:
and in the distance there were more of them, but they were more fantastic from afar, they stood there anchored by something I could not see,
they were unchanging, not like me.
Photo by Loren Chasse, poem inspired by this one at The Disappointed Housewife.