​FARMERS

 

The Rose-Way in Giverny

                                                                                                                         And in the reticulate distance

                                                                                                                      the cued inertia of Lucifer

                                                                                                                      astounds. Our feet bleed:

                                                                                                                      buoyant, the body at its task.

                                                                                                                      What you wanted was what I

                                                                                                                      wanted-slant of sun to the left,

                                                                                                                      twinkling of civilization elsewise,

                                                                                                                      and the moon (whelp of history)

                                                                                                                      to our backs, all come-hither

                                                                                                                      and dream. Motion understood

                                                                                                                      is philosophy deferred: peace,

                                                                                                                      the felt pathos of space and time.

                                                                                                                      Look, darling, at the establishing

                                                                                                                      shot. It's downright Biblical,

                                                                                                                      this thrown-together vista,

                                                                                                                      world upon world without end.

                                                                                                                      -Virginia Konchan

                                                                                                           

                                                                                                                      

 

 

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