Night veils yet again hinting subtly at rot and day gets back to digging the roots:
the problematic of the East is shaken up from slumber; the child is now available.
The game of light and shadows hints subtly at joy making no excuse for the carnage:
the piling up of one inexhaustible crust of discarded flesh on another; the child responds.
Problem solving is child’s play, and as day betrays the child’s gleeful mourn it knows:
understanding the lot is not needed; only the play of light and shadows is its lot.
The child has no complaint no regret as it goes about imagining its mirthful art:
the problem is solved for the day; tomorrow we shall play again, shall we?