Pendulum
Once there was a wonder
The truth yet discovered
What’s in a hill, over a trunk?
Name that mystery, strike out to that setting
Observe and rename with line and pig’s mane
Until now
Where am I
At the turn
Struggling with patience
Circling in the backness
Is this what I was born to?
What kind of bleak is the winter day sky
What kind of true is the breathing of air
What kind of scaring last night’s sandwich out of me
But at the same time, a sort of peace
Not sure what to make of it
But this feels good
Right now
Just
Writing
it
Down
