Curves describe everything.
The bend of the Earth,
the moving angle of attack
as an ocean wave washes ashore.
the sketch of foam left behind
The sigh of love.
A trail of clothes.
The reach of trees into the sky,
or the trail below keeping elevation
The movement of the wind,
its description on canvas.
I can bind the pinpricks in night’s firmament with a straight line
and yet over time, the stars break my bounds
Even light bends to gravity’s will
encircling mass with a peek around
It’s the way in nature