04-16-2022, 03:32 AM
Knowing that the sleeper you encounter
is a corpse -- the valley's too routine, the morning
too pastoral -- now your head is swarming
with profundity. You flounder
though the ground beneath you is quite solid,
kept together by deep-rooted cover,
and you barely moved. Was he a forlorn lover
or a soldier? Was his passing plotted
or some fateful accident, the panicked
pistol leaving the premier exhibit
of their crime so open? His organic
pose, his gentle smile -- and from a thicket
draws a little highway, velvet traffic
of ants marching to their billet.
is a corpse -- the valley's too routine, the morning
too pastoral -- now your head is swarming
with profundity. You flounder
though the ground beneath you is quite solid,
kept together by deep-rooted cover,
and you barely moved. Was he a forlorn lover
or a soldier? Was his passing plotted
or some fateful accident, the panicked
pistol leaving the premier exhibit
of their crime so open? His organic
pose, his gentle smile -- and from a thicket
draws a little highway, velvet traffic
of ants marching to their billet.