Typically a poem measures 8x10 in familiar units while weighing up to 10-12. A poem’s promoted weight, however, never matches universal standards; consumers rarely look for more. Indices prove hazy when in reference to vital states of mind. One can only hope for newer-styled vantages and lessees with equitable programs to bring fabulist content to the fore, thereby redeeming glacial impulses of each outburst in a work-study. Further horizons lurk in the sequestering impulse to execute practices of hayfields and rosy dawns slinking with nourishing dew, causing the chess pieces to fall into place. No sabotage can be too sweet. We shall all remember attempts to release the pride of angels, only to consecrate a sour dough. Established vacancies arise as new order while each penned poem composes itself in constituted sequence. Only timely consequences, vented thru rupture, can ease the certainty of reward. Dolour as a pump secures the direction. All patients must heed the warning or sulk.
It begins with a scanning of light, a settlement of words. The lightly fracture of Bird sound begins in the office of seeing. Not sentiment but sense, as cool as Green in the Early days. Pasture resists nonpasture, no one Refers to none. All remains including nothing. Morning Is belief and there simply there. Tides go freshly to the point.
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