Lying back on the water,
   Peering into a cloud,

I shift like driftwood --
   rocking and rising,
   rolling and dipping.

As I stare at the cloud,
   It seems to stare back.

It drifts - suspiciously -
   Or maybe I'm drifting
   And it is still --

 In truth, we're both drifting,
   And neither of us has
   The mental energy to be
      Suspicious.