Vistas Ex Officio

Vistas Ex Officio

The view from here is wide, expansive, and true.

Beyond the moldy book-stacked space

     Between my desk and nearby window,

Beyond the sheers, beyond the blinds,

Beyond the valanced, double-panes,

Beyond the shaded casements,

Beyond the tattered porch, beyond the wooden swing,

     Made for two, that hangs precariously from a single-joisted beam,

Beyond the dandelioned, daisied, sandspurred lawn,

Beyond the thorny, coral floribunda rose,

     That I planted for my beau a decade back,

Beyond the crooked, brick-lined road,

Beyond the oak they say some great grandfather’s father

     Planted as a boy,

Beyond the city park where youngish men are smooching

     Youngish girls beneath an ecsatic kite,

Beyond the rippled, glassy lake where cirrus clouds scoot by reflected,

     Beyond the mottled ducks’ nests on its far, cattailed shore,

Beyond my nearest neighbor, there,

     Who’s name I’ve never learned

     Nor cared to,

Beyond that bulky steel, yet nimble raincloud,

     Bravely obscuring the gloaming sun,

     In an otherwise pinking sky,

Beyond the spot where bitsy, soaring eagles disappear,

Beyond these trifles that block the view from here,

     The view from here is wide, expansive, and true.