Not Casual, Not Formal

Careful is as thoughtful does,
a formula for stoic fuzz;
bound to what to rope to ride
failures sow the solid glide.

Watch closely, an orange sound
in the middling distance
raises ears and Jekyll
to attend kindly to the swaying pine.

Up, awake, reassurances counter
crashes while wind's wiles 
scatter wildness
across a furtive morning.

My is an analogue 
to olive sheens
and the smell of dirt
and dust.

Pasts crawl into casual minds
while formality battles just to grind
away the sand that scathed the gears,
brittle figures' sticky fears.

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