Sloth for Brancusi

Mahogany and walnut

21″H

2011

High up in the canopy
You might not even notice me.
I’m hanging very, very still
The true embodiment of chill.

The key to my serenity
Lies in my immobility.
My movements are so calm and slow
That on my fur, algae does grow.
Mottled brownish, tinged with green
I’m camouflaged, almost unseen.

So, unafraid of who might be
Trying to make a meal of me,
I hook my claws around a vine
And curve my very supple spine
Until I form into a ball,
A drop of rain about to fall.

But, with my firm and steady grip,
Never from the branch to slip,
I hang for hours to sleep and eat,
My gravity defying feat.

You might think this way of being’s
The reverse of what you’re used to seeing.
Below your shoes, the earth goes by.
You arch your neck to see the sky.

But, with my feet over my head
You’d be forgiven if you said
That dangling high above the ground,
I’m looking up by looking down.

How do you respond to this piece? Write your own interpretation to be shown above upon the artist’s approval.