The variety of sensations gives the reader a memory like a movie for example, the verse:

The mixture of an ant,
a canine, and a snail.

I imagine driving home anxious to get there fast and the time clock that does not want to move.

In front of me, inexplicable Octavio
boards a ship of shadow
and wags a gnarled finger at me
while his furrowed brow jubilates.

An abstract thought moves old emotions that try to navigate in calm waters. But as it says in a previous verse storm clouds or sadness are formed.

I hope the sun comes out on the blue horizon with the light of the new dawn for a teacher we all miss. Greetings @d-pend