Power Lines

Power Lines

Now when we look at the mountain,
The gouge is almost all we see —
what’s amiss, what’s gone wrong,

like a beer can in a trout fresh stream,
the crooked tooth in a smile,
ears a mite large, sticking out,

those growing specks of doubt
in our kisses, in our eyes,
off to the corner of our love.

They gouged the mountain
for a power line — a tidy brown strip,
compared to the whole wide green of it.


©James L. Ralston


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