Each trance pales in the hub, the furtive

Equinox of names: pawl

Thwarting ratchet-jarring skies that orb

This austere commerce with wind.

Lulls mend. But gales nourish

Chance: breath, blooming, while the wheel scores

Its writing into earth. Bound back

To your feet. Eyes tend soil

In the cool of dying suns. The song

Is in the step.