Saturday, noon

a fearful flight is one made in search of sea and sky when one is sailing through it all already as a ship that bows to any body of water and then offers its stern to surrounding air to sigh

Saturday, 1:14 p.m.

first morning in a drop of rain rests

always there, the rest

the restfulness of all the rest of our nights

so, here lies all the rest of our light

in a stardom skydom, dawning in dearness, now uponing

comes dawning our yearful of ear