Little spider, greet the sun. Don’t be down.
Give thanks, dear toad, that you are here.
The hairy crabs, like roses, all have thorns,
and mollusks are reminiscences of women.

Know how to be what you are:
enigmas that have taken form.
Leave responsibilities to the Norm,
who will in turn send them on to Heaven.

(Sing, cricket: the moon is lit.
And, bear, go ahead and dance.)