I see the cornstalks with their dried-up tips
about me, but ahead, a lighter dose.
The circle, which, to me, showed an ellipse,
is nothing but a sea of shells up close.
And closer yet, the sea becomes a wall—
still closer, an impenetrable mass.
They’re so engrossed they do not read my call.
I just assumed they’d part to let me pass.
“Hello? Wake up! I’m standing at your back.
What none of you can bite, I’m here to chew,
possessing of the courage you all lack.”
Okay, they’re parting now to let me through.
They need not move so far. Are they afraid
for their own shells, or would they not see oil?
’Tis neither, it turns out; they would have stayed
had not a red light threatened to embroil.
©2010 Louis A. Merrimac
To shun the glow: An obvious method of birth control. I would have expected it to be the first one that would occur to them, but I suppose I’m not qualified to second-guess robots.
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