By measures, by retrospective, seasons are tired.
We were never what kindles ember; we died in silence.
Adults & pretend.
Such ruthless notes, such private intensions.
Facing an existential conundrum; favoring unrest.
To have distressed one unbeknownst to serenity.
If leaning into a shadow; if serenading a cloud; let stillness speak.
By terrific measures, if taming the beast, fevered to fix life.
Those days looking, so nonchalantly, treasured by the unsuspecting.
Has ever a moment seemed serious?
Those mountains. Deep dark disturbance.
Deeper darker clarity.
And one would till gardens; and one would fight for sanity; faced by darker anxiety.
