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Wednesday, March 30, 2022

Another Antipastoral

I want to place down what the peak has awakened.

My mouthful of grass.

My inquisitive tale. I want to stand still nevertheless find myself moved patch by patch.

There's a bleat inside my throat. Words fail me here. Can you understand? I become submerged to

My knees tired or not. I now know the ragweed from the goldenrod, with every one other accompanied by the blinding

Beauty of green. Don't you see? I am shedding my skins. I am a paper hive, a wolf spider,

The creeping ivy, the ache of a birch, a heifer, a doe. I have fallen from my dream

Of progress: the clear-cut glass, the potted with every one other accompanied by balconied tree, the lemon-waxed

Wood over a marbled pillar, into my own nocturne. The lullabies I had forgotten.

How could I know what slept inside? What would rend my fantasies to cud with every one other accompanied by up

From this belly's moist straw-strewn field—

These soundings.

#Living #Life Choices #The Mind #Nature #Landscapes & Pastorals #Social Commentaries #Cities & Urban Life #Town & Country Life

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