Pristine Calculations

One for every sound
I have forgotten to admire;
The buzzing
The rustle
The summer bird
And flapping of feet

Two for every Ocular
Movement I have ignored;
The silent fog
The tipping sun
And my feet
Muddy
wet
and liberated
From this grime.

Three for every thought
I let slip by

Four for all the
Light I dimmed within

Five for every time
I let another win

and another

and another

and yet another still

And though I steer clear
From castles and forts
Your offering
Has made its way
Upon these
Undying shelves
Where I can read
And read
And then read again.

And as my eyes grow heavy
And fall
I give this night
My final call

Awaiting
The volcano of words
Rising with the day.

Nigh night

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