This morning I sit in my chair watching the next storm move in from the Pacific. Clouds of every type race across the dawn- streaked blue, creating a backdrop for swaying cedars. Crows struggle to stay airborne as they make their way toward their day jobs after a night of willow-nesting up north. Idyllic. Except for the damn telephone wires. They intrude upon the landscape like the proverbial elephant in the living room.
Flaws, faults, and faux pas
Line the landscape of human character
Like telephone poles stretching toward
A much-desired vanishing point.
We can wish them gone, but
They stand guard over the
Authenticity of our humanity.
They are the contours which
© rita h kowats 2014