Reminders on an Alien Terrain

An abundance of yellow for grass
if I were to assemble the backdrop:
an amassing of birds
like black and white
cookies with superfluous tails
collected on fence posts; not crows.
We find bricks and trees coexisting everywhere.
The familiar and unfamiliar
twining I am reassured
and imagine the river
is a slab of green marble between stone slopes.

Time inflicts on pigment; and
that which persists is not pertinent.
Desperation the cause of all that thalo paint—
Stop worrying,
what lasts will last.
Well, the museum was just a museum and

we prod the mountain like foreign thumbs.
Again and again, function performs.