Each year, it seems, larger and more daunting mountains of text
rise from the lush lowlands of visual reproduction.
Follow this gravel road politely,
your residence here lacks permanence.
Gravel gives way to a dirt corridor
through fields tattooed on the earth.
Soon the corn begins
resurfacing the earth with lush tassels.
Long-legged corn blocks the view.
This bloated landscape spawns
archaic fears of beasts stalking prey
hidden in the underbrush.
Return with shears and scythes
to open up a place to see out.
The corn withdraws to one side,
steps back from the road,
crouches lower to the ground.
Now, it is safe to walk.
Linda Watskin ©2010