Needleskip

As I am relieved for the eve,
from my daily routine
That of which I am downtrodden.

I encounter possibility
In its sporadicity
But myself is forgotten.

And comments about the weather
To which I remain a tether
Conclude this won’t be begotten.

An ocular blueness
Gazes me clueless
As my chance ceases to broaden

How my needle has skipped
O’er hosanna as this
And ripened. spoiled. rotten.

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