Landscape

Poetry is just going out walking

Through the landscape of the soul

Where reality meets imagination

Where the half-lived

Meets the longed-for-whole

Taking down what I see here

And mapping where I'd want to go

Recall all the past misadventures

Landscaping the garden,

Like so,

Like so,

And sculpting the real

Into the unreal,

And bringing the unreal,

Into something I can feel,

It is not me walking,

In the poem, on the page,

Sometimes the character,

Sometimes the actor.

Always the stage,

The garden I am drawing,

The landscape I define,

Is blurry round the edges,

Like this old mind of mine