from Landscapes on a Train
There once was a church. There once was a steeple. These things fall into landscape.
And then there were none. Canal across one. One white bird. Go on. And so it goes.
All my pieces thusly single. Horse beside a river. They lovers they onward and so
Next is a field. You could have guessed it. You could have painted it. You are painting
A long line of horses end to end are something farther on.
And orchard on. There is a great plain. If trees can count and they can. One more house
Built before. Fallen down. The falling on. One more canal the size of a thumb. And the great
Plain a single way trees take over a meadow. All that walking. Scar the throng. One more
Station without a name. Name the call. I heard something call. One if animal. And horses
Once more. A plain is cut. By a rivulet. A house stands alone in a field.
A white cow stands alone in a field. A white horse stands alone among trees. A line
Of trees stands alone. Will not this town. Will off again into what’s blind. Will say of
Eye and so far that. Strikes a far thing, a small thing, a thing at this distance becomes
Distance alive all alone.