Beneath the perpetual cloud blanket we waited,
wondering in what form the natives would appear.
Too late we learned the
clinging vines torn from our ship
were our erstwhile hosts,
and in vegetal retaliation the weeding crew
were crushed and ripped apart.
Finally, it just became too dangerous
    to venture out of doors.


    was there a time?
when only the young were hungry?
when only the hungry were alone?
when only the solitary could learn to grow?
pallid, far from the greening sun?
We are all hungry now....