We paint our maps upon the world
the world takes no known notice, though.
It lies back flat and unconcerned
as straight lines over contours flow.
Mountains jutting undefiled, rivers
bending boundaries. The world lies back
and pays no heed, as lines tell us
where we can't go.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Anything you have to say - question, critique, interpretation, praise or rebuke - is received with gratitude and interest.
If it looks like spam and contains a link, though, it will not be published. I will cherish it to myself, instead. Thank you!