Helvetia

Steepled hills ever green,
Sown into a lounging heathered haze,
Eddy about a dew soaked valley,
Innocent of their frosted emerald seduction.

This place neither knows nor cares
About beauty or my languid praise.
It neither resents the dozing fog
Nor pines for summers fair.

I am born from the same earth
Shall I worry more?

-T. Weeks
(A response to “We Two, How Long We Were Fool’d”)