Transcendental Musings
Of American paintings: like
New England reflections
Or the armies heading off in
An Eastern direction
The egg-whipping sky still
Equinox-sharp
The stillness of twilight
The breathing of dark
Like Europe while rising:
A regal procession
All the markings of
Kingdoms and royal coercion
While homespun Yankees
In cabins would muse
On the wonder of evening
And simplicity too
Well one can make such
Sharp observations
Between the music of evening
And the waltzing of nations
The biting of winter thru'
An American park
While the man on the lakeside
Measures the stars
We rode past a mirror
Of transcendental gleaming
Like a New England tale
Of the beauty in evening
While the pull of our Europe
And myriad pasts
Fell in with American
Visions at last
From Parisian street painters
To the Hudson Valley
Around a school of art
Each one may rally
But what it matters to a
Counter of stars
Amounts to the same as
A ripple of dark.
Of American paintings: like
New England reflections
Or the armies heading off in
An Eastern direction
The egg-whipping sky still
Equinox-sharp
The stillness of twilight
The breathing of dark
Like Europe while rising:
A regal procession
All the markings of
Kingdoms and royal coercion
While homespun Yankees
In cabins would muse
On the wonder of evening
And simplicity too
Well one can make such
Sharp observations
Between the music of evening
And the waltzing of nations
The biting of winter thru'
An American park
While the man on the lakeside
Measures the stars
We rode past a mirror
Of transcendental gleaming
Like a New England tale
Of the beauty in evening
While the pull of our Europe
And myriad pasts
Fell in with American
Visions at last
From Parisian street painters
To the Hudson Valley
Around a school of art
Each one may rally
But what it matters to a
Counter of stars
Amounts to the same as
A ripple of dark.