i can’t afford the landscape
painting, a vision that
would not be mine. though it
does look fine on the wall. and i
won’t work decades
away for real estate,
i would worry a young couple would
lose the trail and lay
claim to land that’s mine with love.
i would post signs
and still worry. that
a man might be
thrown rolling in the dust from a train
car passing, and make
my land his hidden castle
that i wouldn’t discover in time;
the painter could come back
making more improvements;
or a hunter shoot
my spirit of land to escape
with so much meat plus a mount to make
life-like
without my knowing.
i do not buy my landscapes, these
visions i could never afford.

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