Two legs with belt and buckle at the top.
Right leg rises, toes point awaiting the drop,
to careen and cascade through portal of fabric
and exit in a world of mystery and magic.
Toe number one looks about him in awe,
for he and his brothers are no longer on the floor.
Instead they are racing through cavernous space,
having challenged the Sun to a chariot race.
They edge in front, Sun hot at their heel,
fierce lantern confirming the otherwise unreal.
Crossing the finish line (a long comet’s tail)
toes bask in the glory of a Sun that has failed.
Having come second place, the Sun is aghast.
“How is such a primitive being so fast?”
The toes simply soak up the joy like a sponge,
their reward for not dipping but taking the plunge.