Thursday, September 20, 2007

Sticks

Another revolution wound
no elegant solution found
a vibrant blush adorns the face
of mountains whose majestic grace
surround this valley tucked away
from sterile steel so stony gray
that dominates the leveled loam
beyond this heaven I call home
where incandescent autumn rays
remediate my grim malaise
and soaring vistas abrogate
myopic modes that inundate.

2 comments:

HouseMouse said...

Sheer music, my friend. You paint the picture without having to use one!

rch said...

thanks Shirl!