the correct posture

 no echo here just quiet and the bright

lamp of midday that flattens all below

with gentle touch that equals massive blow

and makes us all long for the cool of night

there's not a bird  today seeking the height

the strongest beast is hiding from the glow

this day at least we wish to see the snow

soften the edges of this harshest sight

mind cannot waken to the meanest task

nor is there thought of music for the charge

when distance adds so much to every fear

it magnifies the words that each must ask

making the burdens that were small so large

but yet each basket when we look holds air