[photo, son David: St. Malo, France] A sloping downland over Cliffs where morning Mist veiled distance-- Sound and dreams Reforming gray Watery light served Our needs as we Woke, confused, Emerged from night Amnestic and saw Light thread Dawn to the Hill we stood on.
This poem's landscape architecture somehow differs for me the terrain that I know you have tended for so many years in Sacramento. So? I recall camping trips with you when we were both young to coastal bluffs like these. So? That's perhaps just my idiosyncratic response to these magical lines....
Thanks Willie. Bacon wrote: "Every man is a debtor to his profession and must make some return." Garden includes the sea now, perhaps even the stars. Scope has widened but, for me, the axiom holds true.
This poem's landscape architecture somehow differs for me the terrain that I know you have tended for so many years in Sacramento. So? I recall camping trips with you when we were both young to coastal bluffs like these. So? That's perhaps just my idiosyncratic response to these magical lines....
ReplyDeleteThanks Willie. Bacon wrote: "Every man is a debtor to his profession and must make some return." Garden includes the sea now, perhaps even the stars. Scope has widened but, for me, the axiom holds true.
ReplyDelete