When our big puppy closes his alert, roving eyes
And curls up, it’s always something of a surprise.
When these creatures sleep
It dawns on us: the silent and the shallow is deep.
When the silent, and the every-step-is-over, dead
Come into our thoughts, and our thoughts of mortality have sped
Into more thoughts unfathomable, we think,
Perhaps immortality is possible. Then we long to drink
Contradiction’s shallow spring,
Where all that ends and wishes not to end is never ending.