The exact shape of all things
Is contemplatively captivating be they round most heavenly bodies are orbs even those imaginary
Or might some be wisps of smoke
Dust absorbed in air against those eyes looking everywhere
For clues or have tendrils and three or more eyes or beaks as long as some poems
Draw on
Oedipus wrecked
Me way back when in
A classroom where
I
My habit was more to try
To gander up dresses
Than read an opus
Or wonder dreamily at the oak
In sunlights beam the middle of campus where it chanced the window from my desk in literature class overlooked.