"He never played for the first team, but he didn’t see this as a failure so much as an adventure in limitations."
If true, there's wisdom there. Lives
Are all one adventure in limitations,
And what doesn't limit one limits
Another, infinity of finities. The end
Of all our thrashing about is a kind
Of elaborated library of boards,
Samples and illustrations of beings
Both above and beneath us,
Terrible, awe-inspiring forests
Of darkness in which we lose
Our way to stalk each other,
Bandits, faeries, witches, beasts,
But humble before the teeth of saws,
Limited, striving, eating, dying,
The stuff of tables and houses,
Parquetry, totems, fuel for fires.
In an age of rare metals, synthetics,
Graphene, wires, and batteries,
Why rhapsodize about the deep
Woods vanishing into catalogues
Of planks and seeds and books?
It's an adventure in limitations.
Given one random word and one
Remark, rebuild Robin's greenwood gone.