cradle
raze if i am a child
who can't open his eyes
wide enough
to take in all the bright
new wonder of everything
then you are the wooden hands
holding me
in the silent sway of knowing
an inch is the same as a mile
when the wheel that measures distance
lives behind the thoracic wall
of a tiny hairless beast
not yet fit for dreaming 		211228
what's it to you?
who go 		blather
from