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The Bone of the Dome

The bone is the dome
Of my spherical home;
The bone is the dome and the wall.

The spherical balls
In the face of my wall
The spherical balls in my wall

Are useful to me;
I use them to see,
And use them to shed a tear.

The holes in the bone
Of my temporal home,
The holes in my bone's sidewalls

Call me so near
To listen and hear
Outside my bone and its ear.

I stay out of sight
Of the circular light
Of the spherical balls so clear.

I sleep in the rear,
Unafraid of the fear
In the ear outside of my bone.

I think now and then
Of the places I've been
Outside the bone of my dome;

It's smarter by far
To sit on a star
Than under a bony dome.

I'll lie yet a while
Behind the smile
On the face of the wall of my dome,

Till the spherical balls
Fall out of the wall
And my bone's sidewalls are clear.

Then I'll float out there
With nary a care,
Freed from the spherical bone.

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