THE CENTER HAS NO EDGES
The mountain was higher than Montana and the
tired wind was sure to state the obvious : we've
each been here before. Why this? It blew every
sluggard shadow from the picture's edge, like a
Eugene Atget monochrome, framed. I've carried
this all too far; saying more than I'd aimed.
-
The quality of mercy, never strained, is more a
necklace of love and feeling. These opening
words - mountains higher than Montana - are
meant to confuse. Imbibe your wine and whiskey
then, your lightheaded feel will be the solution.
-
Would you want to see me? My photos, my own
Moonrise over New Mexico then? I can show it
to you, happily, but first we must view the maps.
A geography like this is a larkspur of heart.
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