But there was that train of thought
That satisfied one nicely: how one was going to climb down
Out of here, hopefully
To arrive on a perfectly flat spit of sand
Level with the water.
But for all you I
Have neglected, ignored,
Not been that friend that is approaching,
I ask forgiveness, a song new like rain.
Please sing it to me.
Posture of Unease
Winchimes Cypress Point
22 December 2012,
arriving late March