To be a tangent
Of the wind
Whose only instants
Fall for passing,
And to stumble
With these golden hours
In question of my sins,
These searching boundaries
Laid across a skyline
Where digressions paint
In flesh-tone illustrations
Every shifting tide
I’ve struggled just
To notice but in noticing
Too late have only wandered
Far in error.
To be itinerant like hours
Sown so eloquently
Stray and settle
Sun-blind it this valley,
Lost again.

#MtStHelens #Washington

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