windmills turn
slicing days
as prescribed

moving water
as they do
set troughs

can't complain
there is no point
cycles set in place

grids buckle
like we're
trapped

live chequered lives
without ourselves
on deck

though paths
with every step
trod blind

at close of day
did we not take
that road

for steering wheel
this hand
grabbed

let's harness Self
remove the screen
and see

in this precinct
or yonder place
we've opted for

we took a route
with outcome
flawed