.

Fancy Free

All this green here and
everywhere is pleasant
to my unaccustomed eye,
when golden hills usually pickle
my sights and turn them
sourly to shadows or photographs—
I do realize every inch of
the way that green
follows only a steady
rainfall, turbulent or otherwise,
in any region of the world
under this unstickable sky—
for I am trained to yearn for
or appreciate what is not native;
I am not held down
by silly ties;
they do not detain me and
my fancies are free
like comical, dancing sailors
with excellent grace,
like a vision into anther
time I wish I’d had the
luck to experience—
or rather, the ill
luck to experience—
but green is not so foreign;
it is found coast to coast
and lives in the eternal sunny
rolling hills of my imagination.

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