Backyard, holiday weekend, no reason,
Was thinking, I didn't make the world, the world
Made me. I have to live with it as long as I'll be, but
It doesn't have to live long with me, when
A small, curious robot appeared in the heavens,
Hovering like a half-tricky sweat bee over me.
Someone as hopelessly foolish as I am, no doubt,
No doubt wanted to use his new toy (somehow,
I assume it was a he) to put his nose over the old
Stone wall that shelters our small courtyard.
The instrument of invasion, playing according
To the rules of this planet, this atmosphere, this gravity,
Made it both more charming, hummingbird silly,
And also more threateningly, dragonfly predator, insane.
It scrutinized me. I scrutinized it. It left.
I thought I rather wished it had been autonomous
And not just another extension of the source
Of my own perplexities. I would have liked a conversation
With something of the world really, truly unrelated to me.
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