ima xalav

purpose of day

drained down then

surrounded by tiny

toes and fingers found

finding

stretching

to allow flow

back into known

given and regarded

our own sown

wake of day

babies thrice

in the womb

then left the loom

well wove

holding to

hope heavily

hedged, wedged,

in the garden

of grateful

Tov

Of a happenstance

Fortuity loops

Through stoops

On lifts up

And makes:

Lines cross

Edges drag

Boil foils

Settling

Bursting steam melts the surface burning delicate tissue

Leaves rake

Windy gusts

To force the air

Toward sound

Round and round swirling thoughts like hawks that pressure issue

Year end

Ending round

Delicate sense

Asunder

Focus found whispered down to dawn at day's soft bliss blue

Time of Recovery

vapors remain despite

sustained anchors evincing

convincing of construct

and yet quite confined

placate placate

wake of day drama

to make the heart trauma

sheltered and hidden

and just like that

ending, sending of packing

tracking pine needles

strewn in the hay

what wake of day trauma

reverted to drama

enacts the servants

compass true will