They bear the burden of what they can't change, sheltering in its limits. With their single muscle, their attaching foot, they cling for days to tree trunks, sides of building, climbing high for safety, not adventure, their eyes turned inwards, fixed on self-made spirals. Sometimes at night, feeling a hunger their weighted bodies can't satisfy, they leave their sleeping shells and glide over paving stones, their curious antennae tuned to the sky, its trail of gleaming stars.