The ocean's surface mirrors mountains.
A still body of water is a night sky
pulled tight as a fitted sheet.
A felled tree lies end up,
a heap of thumbprinted stump
and mangled roots,
a crumpled hand.
Landscape is reiteration, duplication,
at least in the human eye.
All nature is pattern reaching for itself,
and so is this,
so is this.
Showing posts with label pattern reaching for itself. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pattern reaching for itself. Show all posts
Friday, November 13, 2009
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