The Land Poem by Reddly Raven

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The land.

It began.

But it had no end.

As far as your mind reached, so could the land.

Endless. Boundless.

What shall it be?

On a hill.
Grass.
It waves in light wind.
Tall grass.
Forest line far down the hill,
on each side of a winding path.

Not man made, just the land's cut.

Mountains on horizon.
Largest seems purple from sun.
Others blue.
Much atmosphere from here to there.

No sound but grass.

No smell but life.
And green.

Sky unburdened of cloud.
Sapphire blue.

There would be land behind you,
but you don't turn.
Inconceivable emptiness
behind you.
Unrendered, unmade.
Non-existant.

Your view is all that is,
and it suffices.

What more could an organism ask for?

Day and night seem quickened.
Light plays across ground,
and leaves in mere seconds.

Dark.
Orange to blue to orange.
Dark.

Want change.
Mountain explodes.

Interesting word when writing, no?
I can choose when something explodes.

The trees erupt in a shower of rainbow sparks,
and the clouds rain confetti.
The sun is a sandwich. Colossal in scale.
Ham and Chee of course.
None of that Peanut butter and Jam bullspit.

F$%@ I hate PB&J.

Anyways the land inverts colour and is sucked into a wormhole or something.
I need a sammich.

-
18/04/2012
Dan K. Grosvold