Sitting alone in company: daring, insulting, confusing.
Feeling out of place, but with nowhere to go?
Knowing the place, but with little time to spare?

What is it?

A tapestry, the weft uprooted for another craft.
A cactus, the monsoon delayed for another season.
A tortoise, its legs withdrawn against another attack.
A sailor, his instincts preparing for another storm.

Worn out and moth eaten, left in storage.
Washed out and swept away, desert now floodland.
Enduring torment and inexorably rushing for cover.
Riding high. the dying rage. Scaling the eye.

"Could you pass me that book, please?"