The crack of palms in crisp gusts
The kind of day where you move
Without question
And all the directions
Merge into one
Triumphal chaos
As if all the micro
Discernments adjustments
And judgments were wrong
No longer a thought for what is
And what is not
In the powder blue sky
Even the slightest hesitation
Against the inexplicable
Seems to defy the will of God
