It's just the news that makes you think
They've always been out there,
Sometimes shallow, always deep:
The bump on your surf ski,
The thought that curls your toes,
As you swim through
The brush of water weed.
'A little beauty, and a bargain too,'
The agent darted through the house
Circling behind, herding us on
As if stopping would mean his death.
Last weekend, by the lake,
On a fantastic block,
For just a moment, I think I saw one
In the shadow of a cloud.
But it must have been my mind
Darting to conclusions in the swirl.