But mostly I joust
I walk towards equilibrium
But mostly I steer clear of Proust
And between
The feistiness
And the emptiness
My thoughts are hand to mouth
I stroke those hands across the table
Shuffle these feet on the timber floor
I see that the wet sky is formidable
Take my duffle coat to the door
And between
The ashes in the grate
And last years almighty joyous flames
My thoughts turn back towards the score
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