Varicose veins
scar the landscape;
reminders of rivers
long since dead.
Burnt sienna
and raw umber
scraped across
the desiccated canvas
by a laughing god
with a palette knife
and dirty brushes.
Fascinated eyes
survey the wasteland
through Boeing glass
and the relative cool
of thirty-five thousand feet.
They will find no Jews
wandering in this wilderness
only the occasional
Navajo dust trail set free
by an old pick-up truck.
SMG
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3 comments:
Love the contrast between Jews wandering in the wilderness and Navajo dust trail. A wonderful contrast and vision from 35,000 feet. Marvelous my friend, marvelous!
with a palette knife
and dirty brushes.
That is gorgeous writing!
Took a minute to get beyond, "Varicose veins / scar the landscape; / reminders of rivers / long since dead." Speechless. Clever start to a poem laced with brilliant writing.
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