THE ANGLE OF REPOSE V2

To Cath

As hills their limits know,

 

Beyond which shifting snow

Or tumbling rockfall is the norm 

(As even pebbles need decorum),

Expectating from the land

An idea of where they stand,

As a theodolite employs its

Windows where it poises

(Its overwhelming talents is

The bubble where it balances),

Or as a seesaw waxes

Wayward at its axis,

Or a top, deprived of meaning,

Makes a habit out of leaning,

As anything unsettled or disheveled 

Would like the planet better leveled,

So wobbling, I, without you,

Would like the planet less askew.