The weather is quite pleasant these days.
My new wife looks like my old wife.
Alas...I have started to drink, wishing for better uses
of the seed; perhaps in the embryo of clouds,
swirls rolling over the haystacks. But I remember then
the landscapes I have repressed, my unwillingness
to live a genre. The idea being that if you have loved
a place so much, you can witness its maker;
the house on a hill with a welcome mat
and no explanation
MARINA GIPPS
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/atmospheric-pressure/
