the curve of this day
arcs & bends in direct proportion to the velocity of breeze
and
the sound of the noon train
thundering
thundering
thru a town suspended upon prairie golden & silver saged
removed to Mars by the veiled acceptance of lore & loam
. . . in the tallest branches of nested stillness
quivers the tempered understanding of love & vapor trails
oh, i am equinoxed & present in the space between
the porcelain berry & the blue-sky'd hope of more
to the curve of this day . .
