on a related note,
for the flappy-eared trumpets i know
you were on that limb.
the manipulations of time and space
we all spindle on our spools, did grace
me with a happenstance that i could not foretell.
the disparity between your threads and mine
i hope won’t leave you numbly blind
to what kinds of joy you force-create
i am sure, like walking evolution you ate
your history like diamonds and fate.
i want for you to feel it too.
the rest, and ease, and joy in hues.