A manmade thing -
Spilled patches of grease
On brittle steel gray,
Spanning outward and upward;
...
Would that I were there that day
Along the Dolorosa Way...
To see Him as He chose the cross...
To weep at overwhelming loss...
...
A sentry line of trees
Greets me every morning
Across my wooden deck...
Variegated perennials:
...
Aloft
A manmade thing -
Spilled patches of grease
On brittle steel gray,
Spanning outward and upward;
Viewed from a
Postage-stamp window
Headed Island-South.
God's precious sun
Warming my shoulder,
Highlighting dreary gray
To luminous silver,
Reflecting blue-green
Placid waters,
Speckled Bahamian bits
Under a creamy topping
Of cumulus puffs.
He merely touches
And the man
And the manmade thing
Are never the same...
Finite -
A part of infinite.