We have no prairies
To slice a big sun at evening – “Bogland,” Seamus Heaney
Who has complained of life-giving trees?
Who squints to transform pines to plateaus?
We do, searching for sunsets, harvest moons,
Northern lights, fearing encroaching woods;
It seems these days (I hate those words),
stumbling blind is the best we can do,
a shadowy future just one step away.
We have no horizon.
This adapted ovillejo is a gloomy look from the perspective of a bad attitude. Some days I just miss the desert, especially when some spectacular phenomenon is occurring on the horizon.
But to leave in a lighter mood, have you heard about the Arizonan talking to the Virginian? The desert denizen sighed, “I just feel so claustrophobic with all these trees around!”
The Virginian drawled, “Honey, I know exactly what you mean. When I’m out West, I feel absolutely nekkid!”
The theme was suggested by today’s dVerse prompt, and takes us from concrete to abstract in ten lines.