Below

Think too hard lose the bread
that had been threaded between
the needling the food we observed
under the neath where the weather
ascends ascertains restrains that old
rain inside the beaten sails measuring
the wind for propulsion scenting
the albatross the fish the whale
the bottom of the bottom of the earth
under all the blue in the world
re-enter the sound of the grind 
of the wheels of the summer
leavening leavening oh elevening
we held our hands too close to our chests
regards sincerest hope to align to line
string together like a single red
forgetting the angles their separations
sometimes we get close we resend
our missing time