At_Last

Vintage proven windows vent Hearth's perfume to firmament And straying whiffs of violin Escaped on gentle valley winds Radiating humanity

From dingle gables gently slanted Harmony of earth and man enchanted.

Fence lines hazard from the glen And in their play return again.

Rail posts staves engender Rondos in timber. Trailing off, Unconducted.

Borders, which walls of stone insinuate Disavowed, in rotted gates, Hurdled by ridges, breached by pine, God, the Painter, shuns such lines. Conceit of edges mocked by hedges. In the distant uphill rise Mirror to our slow decline The source of streamlets undisguised, Rocky windings, Forests granted benediction, Laved by balmy sunlight waves Nap eclipsed in haze.

Pining peace in outland's quiet Pillows fail to stem the riot Vanquished by rude fire's light To street sounds in the night.

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