There’s a calming feral drive in me illustrating every new day with soft embedded grasp that leaves me In a home so far removed from your concrete-laden night—that endless splash of light That etches the sky where you live in such vivid traces of vacant Now see with eyes refocused on anything other than this Keep me slow—focused on the inside—forego the outside I need slow (An imploration to dance) I feel landlocked in the best way—bereft of misstep inherent in that city by the sea And that splash of light you chase You precipitate bad company There’s a calm inside that you will never place—where native landmarks beat back static iconography and that shrill, piercing light you claim You precipitate bad company And I can wait, I can wait, I can wait another quarter century swept through a blemished, modest tapestry A depiction of unburdened, lonely country For myself Of all the things I could’ve wrest from earth, seclusion—rested, slowing—holds most worth And I’ve said it before: oh, it holds me This feral calming drive in me keeps me landlocked I feel comfort, and it’s holding—a gust so quiet in accordance with a rising never leaving, as it soothes me, as it keeps me landlocked