Unhitched from time’s yoke
He has forever to build
The slow kingdom
His throne of willow branches
Weaves itself deliberately
His heraldry manifests
In its minute intricacies
Argent stars
In their billions
Cascade down azure pale
Looper passant
& proper against gules
Field-marshal of
Seething caterpillar legions
Whose home is his crown
Dinner will be whenever
You get here
There is no rush
In that span between
An inchworm & the stars
