In a double traveled year they ruined the presence
Duty business of a friend who stands, shoulders
Taught and striding still, supports the burden,
Who looks into the past without a shadow
Without a doubt, they look with wonder at
The hallowed wailing ground that is before
Them and he stands still, impetuous
And imperious, embracing morning desolate
And delicate in all its resounding scorn and
Glory.
Instead of lurching and leaping from one
Thing to the next, in happenstance he
Resonates, he leaves his feet upon the
Solid ground, the harvest ground,
Whereupon the grimly definite reapers
Watch, the timely chalky fine keepers of
The cost elaborate and whirl about the
Spot, he stands in place and his eyes observe
The vanity and increase and all the swallowed
Up destruction reach above the mountain
Fields, above the starry semblance of the sky
Above, he stands in one space and everything
Else unfolds itself around him, initiates and
Elaborates into all it was ever destined to
Become.
Very cool.
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