I pasted up your sun this morning,
balanced until the ramp
tipped the way from path to treetop,
pulled a dragon car to the crest
of a blue hill, rode it down
through a valley of smiling snails and wooden dolls.
Before the end, I strapped on a rocket to open an apple,
leapt until the springs and I
could launch me to the top of the tower.
But here the bubbles escape me,
at the spot where the buttons are primed for two.