A sea-shell's shifting rhythm. Naked people dying in the snow. Humans have no need for protective layers of shell. Yes we do. The leopard in the tree will not hunt us. Why should that be? Is religious belief a light-weight gas in us, making us float, as Frost suggested? Then why do we sink in the slightest bog? Is it the pavement holds us up? What blessèd asphalt is this? Gravel thrown up at a window, never breaking the pane.

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That's section XII of a suite I'm writing called "Sunday Morning." To read more of it I suggest you subscribe to "The Hat."