You watch us, grave as Stonehenge. With a solemn surprise you observe the rites of our living, we, the aliens, the tender strangers. Water flows from a wall. Light surprises, then disappears at will. Animals fly about you singing "Here Comes Peter Cottontail." We creatures appear, jiggle your feet, appease your hunger, kiss you in ceremonial rites. Ritual phrases and songs are changed. Holding you chest-high we intone "Lamb chop, darling, Michael, sweetie-pie, lullaby and good-night." You greet us aliens with dignity and charm and move to take first steps on this new planet.

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