Changes Less The Moon

From where I stood
I could see the tides receding
Counting on the up leaves me
Counting on the down, it seems

Steady, steady calm
I am the language of the windmill
And though I cannot tell
Where my body meets the ground, it seems

In a fashioned line
I am uncertain and untied
On fractured thoughts and broken sentences
And after all is done
I can lie down and shut my eyes
Of open air and without fences

When I stop my head
I can feel the movement swelling
It's coming up around
It's always coming up around, it seems

In a fashioned line
I am uncertain and untied
On fractured thoughts and broken sentences
And after all is done
I can lie down and shut my eyes
Of open air and without fences