Birch bark canoe paddle dips in the high and low waters but moves forward and frayed tow rope can be cordage made tight to lift and traverse the tidings pull back and forth. Sculpture faces blown from Native Americans mountain see the plains but trails remain illusive in ways and means of division between forest trees branches that have a wide breach and yet bend down with weight of a knapsack.
History is always seen clearest through poetry.
good observation, Stan, thanks
💙
thanks, Patris
Birch bark canoe paddle dips in the high and low waters but moves forward and frayed tow rope can be cordage made tight to lift and traverse the tidings pull back and forth. Sculpture faces blown from Native Americans mountain see the plains but trails remain illusive in ways and means of division between forest trees branches that have a wide breach and yet bend down with weight of a knapsack.
Thank you, Richard
Quite the odyssey.
Indeed -- thanks, X. P.
This!
teetering on the edges of our
own souls' devils’ towers'
pinacles where flowers
grow unseen
Thank you, Brian
You are a master of the pause. You understand that figure and background go together.
Thank you, Mike -- McLuhanesque!
Love this, Jonathan. There seem to be synergies around Substack... I’ll be releasing a somewhat devil-inflected poem tomorrow...
Thank you, Thomas -- I'm looking forward to taking a look at it soon