A hole in the asbestos

I am circumscribed by rocks and flowers
In a bowl where you saw a surprised hare
And now a peacock on top, its blue head
Outside eyes, my glass eye fails to touch.

The rocks are not yet warm with a day’s sun
Squatted in a wilderness like brown figures
Smelling grass flowers with upturned noses.

I look farther to see the lake rising to the sky
And endless asbestos fence beyond the lake
That has a chink for people to snake through.

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