“Wait, pull over…Here’s one! Hey, anybody home?”
Some like to be sung, some carved, others drawn.
Some hope to be accorded the freedom to roam.
“Nothing doing with this one. Just look at the lawn!
Weeds have all covered up the plastic fawn.”
“We’re supposed to tell them. What do you think that means?”
“Hmm…To tell can mean to say, but also to count.
But they’re rarely seen together in teams,
and you simply blurt out “One!” when you spot the fount.”
“Nevermind about that. We don’t yet even know
how we’ll know them. By prop? By garb? By claw?
Will they conceal themselves from us or will they glow?
Maybe invite us in to escape from the cold?”
Thus we plodded along, hoping to draw
up alongside one that would consent to be told.
[Previous: Aboard the S.S. Giapetto]
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