One written a little while back, but an actual experience. The allusions to Wallace Stevens “Disillusionment in Key West” are due to an exercise in a workshop with Marj Hahne.
Disillusionment in West Texas
A sunny morning in March.
Off the interstate, empty roads.
Along the main street—
if this is the main street—
yellow stucco buildings.
No one walking about,
no windows to stop at,
no shiny OPEN signs,
no trouble parking.
Where are the installations,
where are the galleries,
where is a shop selling
mid-morning coffee? Marfa
is closed on a Tuesday morning.
The coursing water does not always agree. Neither do I. I want to say, “If you want me to stay on the trail, don’t pave it.”
There’s a section still only graveled along a fence which keeps people from wandering into a conservation area. Except when it doesn’t.
There’s a story here:
On my recent walk I found the first bit of purple mat “in the wild.” It is already flourishing in the sheltered space of my back yard, where I have been encouraging it for years.
This spring I have one between sidewalk and wall, and two tiny ones between sidewalk and road. My next-door neighbor has a few in what used to be his lawn. The neighbor across the way has several. I’m waiting to see if he pulls them out. As I’ve noted before, I like volunteers and won’t pull these. But they won’t last long.
I tried to plant something else for the winter in this pot. It didn’t make it. These violas don’t care whether it is winter or spring.
freethoughtandmetaphor 