in the evening
I like to wander
sometimes my old favorites grow familiar
I discover new routes
to which I return
I relish every fading curve of the foothills
every layer of mountain shadowed along the distance
I love the sharp peaks
against the deep sky
every shade of pink and orange and blue
every explosion of green
every vast field of corn
every row of berries
every old farmhouse and barn in need of paint
every dog guarding the house
I dare not steal the innocence
with a photo
place a garish frame
around the grand touch of the real
try to grasp the fading glory
and preserve it in a box
freed from the need to like what I ought
to keep what is not mine
I am learning the nuance
of discovering what I love
what is real

One thought on “garish frame

  1. I am going to take the liberty of talking about my own little meditation here. It is a strange thing that we like the familiar, yet we like what is fresh and new, and so we like to return to the new until it becomes familiar and long again for the new. So we can pray and worship with repetition, but not meaningless repetition. The waves are soothing on the ocean because they repeat but are always a bit different.

    As well, I meant that it should be ironic that the poem itself is a garish frame around the real, and so it comes down to the grace to do what I like and frame it how I like despite its imperfection.

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