10/27/2025

Into the yellow softborn daylight,

through causeways of stretch and hustle;

I fly by the bank of the river,

a fury in my gut at the day delivered

and a mind to ramble and rave,

quicker pace faster quicker and

the gentle stooping of an old back

for their daily mail,

the leaf-dew spilling and walkers walking,

fields and forests and horses running,

the river rushing, 

me rushing, 

a flood a storm a quiet arrival,

back drive parked and 

the key slipped in,

thus entered unto the day.