These watery knuckle bones wrap down the row,
Kyle's loops. They were made under the reading
arms, boughed under the weight of a howling
beatnik, who hissed, several decades too late,
then moved to the city of fountains and 9to5.
The waves of rows moved on to Raven, who learned
to make knots in the wind, only for you. Cindy
and Kokapeli pulled in the middle, Cody and I
and made up for the time between needle points.
Sunburned, two left hands, with the West Winds,
circle sitters, outdoor academics, we made you
a scarf while you made us weigh the leaves.