With each step, I cast a bet into the night,
a gesture set to wave farewell to the day
which passes with the sun an’ rises with the proud man
of night. Their goodbye to the former world, a coil now
unspun an’ turned like a wheel outside of the spiral,
for the day is down; the night is up, my feet strike to the beat
of a farewell to the former world it has served well.
Now is the time to sell all the chips gathered from that corner,
mount an expedition into the new world, placed by the down of the moon
and the lifting of the sun, if only my hands could let go with such ease
of the bands forged in the bright heat that tie them to this former world,
just as my feet strike to the beat of a farewell; the rest of the body
must follow in the pace and tune set,
allow the former world to drift, farewell.
‘Say goodbye to where we don’t belong; living in darkness of the former’