Country and City

COUNTRY AND CITY

And as he looks out over the parapet
of the hill on high
He adopts a studious stare
And steps outside himself to
have a look
at his philosophical pose

Acting like his own mirror
he adjusts his hat
and re-engages his stare
And his contemplative pose

Who knows
he may (in his unbelief)
come up with something.

Something to explain this vista that
stretches out before his eyes
Look at it.
Look at the nooks and crannies,
the highs and lows of bulbous
mounds that
outline into abstraction
when seen another way

Looking again –
“What do you see?” He asks himself
I see greens and blues and
purples and browns and
greys and yellows…
and stones and bracken and
mingled entertaining nuances of
stick upon stick
and glimpses of hidden rocks and
exposed heather

“What do I see indeed..?”
Miles and miles…

This will do for now
This moment and moments
will pass
And back to the city I must go

Bringing with me a
wrecked jigsaw memory of it all

But the city has its own character –
I will studiously stare-it-out too –

Until it produces something
– unto a completed picture
Jigsaw wrecked again by
another trip to the country regions
of outskirts

“Where shall I dwell in my old age?”
is another question
Unanswered until old age

To claim one above the other is to
flip a coin and leave it to chance.

But if I am to be a promo man –
the country has stolen the edge
To give you the invitation:
“Go west young man, and
spare not the horses…”

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