the beginning was a serrated dawn
past and imaginations folded
like the creased edges of a paper fan

raindrops were not calculated trajectories
I had once forced upon myself

but a distant memory
unbeknownst to those who never look past
the tide of their vision
impressions pressed into our days
duties followed; marching to the beat of predecessors

yet the tide rolls in
forevermore relinquishing celestial pull

twilight falls with grievances long overdue
the water births it's friction
straying from wind's course

the end was a planate dusk
chimeric chances and futures rejoiced
like the musical notes of the breeze
the paper fan now blew