Overseeing (day 2908)

What laid me here atop this mountain so
: A collection of thoughts
Reared of only my dreams.

What beauty drove me to season’s edge
: Climbed ever higher
To divine what I knew cried.

What left me open
: Observing, witnessing, counting
Driving my layers of skepticism.

Why did I not hold my here heart
Though I knew it was you
Who held such precious space
For there it was
Forgotten with the dust settled in the corner
Yet overseeing neither bond nor collection.

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