That was the little dusty bus in which we traveled the country.
We had marvelous, painted traditional ox carts
and contemporary ox carts.
There is a poem in the book for the leafcutter ants, who,
as [INAUDIBLE] says, 'They make the trail by walking.'
And we got to see the perezosa the marvelous three-toed sloth.
"30 feet up, not so slow as we thought,
honey blonde, three-toed perezosa spans
the great why between branches.
Arced claws unfold, cutlery close at hand.
She hangs wide open, a great gold
X crossing paths with the bloodied men, thorn-torn
in cathedrals.
Her tongue dangles moist leaves.
Foot over hand, her gradual shifts sculpt time.
She's at home in dense fur.
Week groundlings suffer, dripping coats of salt.
Why should her piece suggest sin?
Her quizzical face, placid as faith,
that one day visions might catch up to endless questions."