The day opens wide as a window
Shedding all delicate smells.
Life ticks away in fabled circles-
Such creature of fine weave,
Yet treacherous hips,
Mounts the peaks of time,
Rocking from pole to pole,
Filling its nostrils with salty tales
Of more spell to come.
And as the air creaks and stares,
The sill eludes the air
And splendour comes to joy the day.