Brave topography heaved heavenward
With each refreshing breath
And I could not but help notice
Though it was not as if I set out to
But more as one might stare
In contemplation of a creation
Of Henry Moore if you were to find it
Stark naked in the middle of your backyard
One morning when you let the dog out.
It has occurred to me that God
Like a sculptor must have envisioned
Such appreciation of the simplicity
Of smooth curve lines that intersect
Man’s eye and pull him along
The contouring waves to become himself
A partner to this masterpiece
In the same way a poet makes the reader
A part of his every poem.
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