Untitles Landscape Poem by Sally Van Doren
Untitles Landscape
We have been there before,
but one orange line can't
keep us from breaking through
the silver popple hovering
over some kind of hour
we tell to stay put,
to glimmer only when we
wait for it, there, where
blue rests on the bottom
of the page, where
discoveries choose to find us.
Then and there we skim
through every inch.
Is it stillness? The yellow mt.
leaks through grey sky.
The monster leads us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/2/2024 2:42:44 PM # 1.0.0.1119
