Getting carried

A sense of even just beginning, through storms or poetry, but in your own words.  A sense of loss, of being lost.  Disappointment? Yes, I suppose so, though I don't know why.  It would seem I felt I deserved more somehow, that I was entitled.  Good lesson. 
Crows call clockwise on my watch, there's much to be said for reading more, and at your own style, for you.  Fuck the book club.
Swings, old double swings in restaurant gardens as the sun sets on your holidays, or at least on day of them, swimming.  You'll sleep in the car on the way home, or maybe get carried.