what were they, i wonder, as he sat
stoically on top of gravity.
reflections on the simple complexities of eggdom?
"don't get too hot", "take care not to trip as you walk."
or did deeper thoughts swirl in his yolky brain:
his purpose, his childern, his impending
retirement as keeper of the king's horses?
hunched over in the dark night perhaps
defeated, depressed? contemplating a fall
to the bottom of a life long struggle of
being just like every other egg
plain -- white.
i think it was probably more anti-climactic,
like most things in life. arching too far backward,
watching a cloud change from shape to shape:
from tree, to elephant, to castle.~sof