Statues among bamboo and trees are shaped
steel, smoothed marble, cast bronze and concrete
Material and immortal, they space
themselves as if they breathe the air
As if they were an ancient Henge and not
recent, as if land-shaped and not landscaped
We walk a maze, surprised at every turn,
art teaching us to see forests as trees
And making us forget to read labels
on trunks, on posed and painted human forms
Indeed, to join the show, to rest, to note
movements of mortals, costumes of today
Or not. To grab a bench, take out a pen,
find words and generate found poetry
And choose: Enter deeper reality
or weave illusion on the spot. Spit spot.
Linger or speed, turn right or left, stand up,
or sit on architectural stages
As one with waiting things that envy trees
their roots, heartwood, green strength, wrinkles and grace.
Nature’s Laugh by Gunnar Theel, my own photo
Posted at Poets United Poetry Pantry #316
My blog poems are rough drafts.
Please respect my copyright.
© 2016 Susan L. Chast