III
Amazata of Tsubasa

Alone in the middle,
the steel so far away,
Nando knows he cannot approach,
cannot get to the sides,
must always be in the open.
The ball could bounce off every angle,
pirouette to any purpose,
but it must come back & comfort him.

No-one's even looking in the Amazata.
There is no sound,
except the scuffing of the dirt
by Nando's delicate feet,
a quick chicken ballet,
scratching out some meaning,
describing the glory of living
to nobody.