Flying above Texas
and man's geometries
his ordered circles, squares
sections, quarter sections
lie side by measured side
down upon the mesa
Man, he who makes measure
of these things and would be
the measure in all things
is lost at the edges
where land stands to no scale
and veins in earth drain all
On the mesa, the squares
the green and tan circles
touch the belly of Earth
man no more than tangent
makes his transformations
above that vast heartbeat
Such pale symbols inscribed
upon an earthy skin
spell out dust unto dust
in language all too blunt
to be misunderstood
this message of the mesa

© 1997 Jess Morton