Parting in a crunch as the light gently raises
Over clutched green towers of fresh mischief.
The glass globe revolves in a bawling black box
That will never forget, nor shed its darkness.
Songs climb to the height where voices die
And the endless crystalline ringing fills eager ears.
Waddling gangs shiver with indifference
Betwixt panting, glaring foes and tugged keepers.
A crack runs and runs and then the water brims
And I, with it, transcend and elate.