He lumbered the wood of days
Hammered its nails
Fellowed the growth of vines
He need not measure wind
To fortunes half his height
Before the sun had come up
Life no mirror of weight
He emulated its solstice
A canyon to unravel
The adorations of tide
He hadn’t need for geometry
The string held up to locate
He let avalanche down a path
The stanza of his kite
Dancing under the rain
Making the moon a cane
Before the sun had come up.
