A slice of sunshine slides its way down the street. No compassion for the pollard tree, limbs cut off then trundled away, leaves too. The human mind evolved of this world as needed? Or an ellipsis? A frog whose bludging eyes are clear of philosophy was the one made for leaping? Singing not croaking is the god who sang this world into being: nothingness sung into nothing- ness. Flesh and bones with the mind leaves one.