The chick in the egg picks at the shell, cracks open one oval world, and enters another oval world.
“Cheep... cheep... cheep” is the salutation of the newcomer, the emigrant, the casual at the gates of the new world.
“Cheep... cheep”... from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star.
It is at the door of this house, this teeny weeny eggshell exit, it is here men say a riddle and jeer each other: who are you? where do you go from here?
(In the academies many books, at the circus many sacks of peanuts, at the club rooms many cigar butts.)
“Cheep... cheep”... from oval to oval, sunset to sunset, star to star.
Any corrections or public domain poems I should have here? Email me at poems (at) this domain.