Notes No. 3

Whatever might lay in fertile
shade around the comportment-
which loses if the flower blooms,

laughably, but not scrutinized.
Up from recklessness. The moment
after then taken from my hands

curtailing the old man’s regret,
“where angels fear to tread”,
stoked new for somber height.

Not an intent to be initiated by you,
a choice by me, then beyond me, open
within a flight that is no longer mine.

Subscribing it over to fate, to you
like that. Insistence now in what
follows outward; may continue inward.

The grandest striving, a collapse
into the smallest beneath
the spectrographic core of this

universe, where can lie refrain
in swelled reverberative motion
to conclude and surely will continue.

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