Wednesday, May 12, 2010

The homely here of Indiana

The homely here of Indiana,
Beaten, drowned, buffeted,
Labeled by some as country
Best seen from above--
You know, as the crow flies.
And on days like these
Even from above, you'd see
Only clouds, and more clouds.
And yet--
Some blustery front will blow
Those clouds away, soon,
Then look out the windows, frequent fliers:
Ah, the lovely green checkerboards
Fringed by full wind-rows
Laid on the grid of county road
And interstate.
And down below, the beauty's
In the details, so look close:
The pear, the dogwood, the lilac
The tulip, iris, peony,
Green on loan from 
Some Irish aerie, maybe:
The Midwest flatness a sudden canvas,
Cubism and Impressionism thrown together,
Unexpected art in a plain Hoosier gallery.

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