I'm certain you are fine
I only enquire because
your countenance flatly

speaks of dreams and hills
and skin in warm rays
of Autumn's afternoon

stirred slowly over heat
this wooden handle pressing
back against your hand

a lever held close against
tomorrow always seeking
a way in to these hills

bringing its ills
and i am younger
again today i think

then when I asked
perhaps impolitely
why your nexus

of dallying lines
drunken ripples
and lumpy oscillations

is calling for weather
hoping for lightning
even dull frightening

as days are stifling
and nights trifling
and lives baffling

you could have said
seeking solace and
certainty fell here