The bowl lay open in the morning sun,
Waiting, nay, lusting
For the piercinging thrust of a man aski.
He went, faster and faster,
harder and harder.
Twisting his hips, back, and forth
He leaned forward,
Got a glimpse, he knew.
The landing place, he knew
Just what to do, a super effort,
The leap, the twist, the impact landing
The powdery white spray.
He stood, panting, a little limp,
Yes, Again, he turned to climb,
The bowl
Lay smiling in the morning sun.
