You tried to leap from a higher height than your rival the Guinness Book record holder and broke the bag that cushions stunt falls. My only purpose this moment is looking at a lizard. He breathes with tiny push-ups, his skin all hairline caverns soaking up the sun.
Every task is the whole task.
I think a flake of snow has never borne a weight of guilt for slowly drifting down. Tomorrow we'll see it, motionless, calm, like a poised adolescent on point on five toes. We are a voice impelled to tell where the joining of sound and silence is, silence that rests in the cave of the drum.