Scenery

We continue to pit two tiny hillocks
Against the infinity of a sky bending
Dangerously on the brown bushes
With loud explosions in their rear
And a gray smoke in the elevation.

We have a man and a woman near,
Two faceless figures for a scenery.
They have no faces but cheekbones.
A rock gets angry with a loud bang
With machines making it look small
In the bigness of the blue scenery.

Woman bathes in emptiness of rock.
Rock falls into emptiness of morning.
As smaller holes bath in bigger holes.
Brown bushes bath in their shadows.
Holes have shadows in themselves.
Shadows have no holes in a scenery.

There are tiny eruptions in shadows
Like lizards in holes quickly catching
Tiny eruptions to eat their emptiness.
We are in a hurry to pit two tiny hills
Against the infinity of a breathless sky
Before it eats them into its emptiness.

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Light and camera

Lake’s  brown is mush and green algae,
The shadows a high point near the boats,
With men rowing time, a noon in  clouds
Plain white stuff lolling in a blue sky.

Those algae lie peacefully with an  ibis
Its one leg on a rock, its white double
In waters, doing penance for the day.
The boatman scoops up algae  into boat
From a ripple breaking him in pieces.

A dappled lake is all we are looking for.
Smoke curls beyond shore are  not our thing
Not a high point when the sun  plays hooky.
Shore trees look inward, their eyes closed.