I have pushed too hard,
                          too fast,
                            too far.

I’ve busted the lock.
The lock is bust and
I’m suddenly wailing.

Ridiculous me, so mortal, small,
                           so easily enthralled
with ridiculous me.
I tend to grasp
               to seize
                  too fast
and to come up short
on my expectations.
Damned, vainglorious

I am thrust to coolness
that trembles through me
                like a palpitating breeze
                through the cool catalpa leaves.

like a cool catalpa leaf
                I suddenly sense
some caterpillar thing
give breath to wings
that fan across me and
suddenly I shake