calendars

afraid of the contingent
we bind time in calendars and clocks
unbound it seems a store of shocks

it defies our geometry
and every scale
all shapes
linear
or circular
attempts to make it fall
into a pattern
or
follow our sensibilities
fail

exposed are we
our fear and timidity
it exceeds us
and we trail

***

spring is an event
marked on our calendars
its basis erased

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