Posted for Daniel aka The Baron Don Von Maximo
Landscape of Love
Where the bog ends, there, where the ground lips, lovely
is love, not lonely.
Land is
love, round with it, where the hand is;
wide with love, cleared scrubland, grain
on a coin.
Oh, the wheatfield, the rock-bound rubble;
the untouched hills
as a thigh smooth;
the meadow.
Not only the poor soil lovely, the outworn prairie,
but the green upspringing,
the lark-land,
the promontory.
A lung-born land, this,
a breath spilling,
scanned by the valvular heart,
the field glasses.
3 comments:
Thanks for posting that for me James. My computer is having trouble with the post page for some reason.
We studied this poem in my Modern Canadian Poetry class. I thought it was really great - and somehow it really reminds me of the prairies. Hope you all enjoy!
Look up more PK Page if you like. So far I've found most of her work to be quite good.
PK Page rocks!
The Prairies are the land of G-d, and we the people free.
:)
I like it alot! Im going to look up more of her stuff.
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