Level, plumb,
measured, planned,
exact on paper,
to eye, in hand.
Line and angle
sure and clean,
no bend or sway,
no weakling lean.
How do they feel,
these former trees,
to be so very
isosceles?
More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg.
Level, plumb,
measured, planned,
exact on paper,
to eye, in hand.
Line and angle
sure and clean,
no bend or sway,
no weakling lean.
How do they feel,
these former trees,
to be so very
isosceles?
More thanks to photographer S.W. Berg.
Which way to tomorrow?
Into the wind or hard alee?
Do we veer or hold the course
to the Land of What-Will-Be?
Do we clamber up some scaffold
to get a better view
of all the choice and option
our futures might imbue?
But maybe it isn’t there
’til we bungle through today
so we declare the future is now
and cower in cliché.
More thanks to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.
before my grandmahood
I’d only see a mess
where something else had stood.
Now I have been blighted
my perception gone agley
it isn’t bricks and gravel
it’s Minecraft that I see!
Thanks again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.