Round hill no trail until walking
held my hand and whispered here
and I followed and it remained.
Breath out before the breath in
trigger of the triggered linear
line respiring back to chest.
Rising under not the slightest respect
for the ceiling that seemed a ceiling
and grew like air for feathered years.
When events follow each other so
closely and daily why do you insist on
calling them events not facets?
Burial of the new ancient fact
excavation of frost-kept secrets now
freeing up how we have been doing it all