Out my window,
I long to see
a scene of something
grander than me—
a snow-capped mountain perhaps,
the shoreline of rock and sand,
repleat with whitecapped waves
of an endless sea.
Out of my window
a Midwestern landscape in actuality.
I see summer’s grass,
the broad green leaves
and peeling bark
of the stalwart sycamore tree.
For this moment in time and place,
and the tenacity of my age,
a grand enough vision for me.
-30-
Chris Hanch 6-29-2021
No comments:
Post a Comment