stanza
the bleed A road vanishing into fog between dark trees

Haze and Vista

the line alone

A Farm Picture

Through the ample open door of the peaceful country barn,A sunlit pasture field with cattle and horses feeding,And haze and vista, and the far horizon fading away.

the offset pair
A porch’s columns, the valley in fog beyond

To You

Stranger, if you passing meet me and desire to speak to me, why should you not speak to me?And why should I not speak to you?

Columns along a porch rail, a road below in mist
the ovals
A wet road curving under a grey sky, seen through a windshield
A road bending down a green hillside
A road past a fence and a small house
A road curving through bare trees, raindrops on the glass
A road bending past a house beneath tall trees
Bare trees through rain on glass
Trees and hills blurred by raindrops
A field and a fence, a red barn far off
A field below wooded hills
Dry corn stalks before a hillside
the color turn
Dry corn stalks before a hillside
the pin-and-pass
A white house with porches, a great tree in fog

Twilight

The soft voluptuous opiate shades,

The sun just gone, the eager light dispell’d—(I too will soon be gone, dispell’d,)

A haze—nirwana—rest and night—oblivion.

the turn
Green-gold woods in soft focus next The open road

Pictures by Todd Stabley. Words by Walt Whitman, from Leaves of Grass.