"What are you at?"
One fine day
The Moon asked the Earth.
For millions of years
She had watched him toil,
Moving the seas from one continent
To another,
Experimenting upon ices and volcanoes
And daily wrecking whole heaps of mountains.
"What are you at?"
She repeated.
Then the Moon knitted her brows,
Pretended to understand
The mystery of creation and of life,
And sailed on thinking,
"Oh, men's trifles."
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