Today at the bank, an old lady asked me to check her balance, so I . . .

A vessel of grace, pouring life with a gentle embrace. From the mound, it sends its flair, or in the kitchen, it stands with care.

What has six faces, but does not wear makeup, has twenty-one eyes, but cannot see? What is it?

What do you get when you divide the sun's circumference by its diameter?

I run but never walk, I bend but never break. I carry fish and fallen leaves, From mountain cold to ocean wake.