The consequences come as follows:
like a bird brain’s magnets, like a steeple.
One could mention the mesquites, greasewood
that inhabit the mind like a quiet suitor
in the foyer. Or elsewhere, the mosquitoes,
estuaries, and oaks. Two initial reactions:
place-pride or shame as the brain
sops the standing daylight
as bread sops soup. The self
gets lost in landscape whose widening
overcasts the flattened and shrinking,
fighting, stinking ego. Or
something of both can occur,
as when the seated figure blends peacefully
between the given pigment whose color
and character depends on the climate
(see Monet’s Weeping Willows).
Heading West by Caleb Braun | Sandalwood Poetry Reed Diffuser Set
$20.00Price
