Powerlines
lines of power
crossing the land
nothing natural
harnessed lightning
defining what is civilized
by what is powered
yet there is beauty
in the architecture of power
lines of power
running sky-high
disappearing into clouds
after the storm
Labels: photography, poem
posted by Art Durkee at 9:54 PM
2 Comments:
The architecture of power seems stunning at this time, in its ghastly beauty, especially when I consider American politics at the moment. Ameriucan politics as a reflection of worldwide trends.
I can almost not bear to think about it. Thanks, Art.
My mixed sentiments, too. Exactly.
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