The tiller’s steel teeth
bit into the soil,
chewing across the garden in rows
like teeth biting off kernels
on a buttery cob
or like the steel bits
of an old Smith-Corona
typing letters in neat rows
across a blank page.
What is it about us,
or perhaps about our tools,
that we impose ranks
and rows and lines
upon a world of curves
and bends and twists?
The greater beauty,
the better part of artistry,
lies in Fibonacci’s natural swirls
and not in our grids of efficiency.
Find the page with no lines
and write a letter longhand.
Eat corn recklessly
and leave scattered kernels.
Dig holes at random
and plant seeds of mystery.
Then wait and watch
and enjoy the surprise.
David M. Frye
April 26, 2009
Denton, Neb.
One response to “Grid Riddance”
Dave,
I’ve really enjoyed looking at your website this morning. Your photography is stunning. I’ve also very much enjoyed some of your homilies, poetry and ruminations. I wish I had more time to browse but as always, duty calls. It is good to see ample proof of just how well you are!
God’s blessings,
Jonelle