A Few Straight Lines
I am soothed by the view
from my bedroom window,
a distinct, straight line
where the lake’s deep blue
meets steel grey sky.
Happier still to see the underline
of the gazebo roof, erected
by my city to mark the ground
. It parallels North Point Park
the aforementioned horizon.
How did city planners achieve this?
Did they know a woman would be sitting
at point A, viewing their structure
at point B, measuring it against
point C, the only straight line in nature?
Finally, aligning all,
the slats of my Venetian blind
that match the roofline (under which
I could stand, if I so desired)
and the unreachable horizon,
where I can never go. And so,
in just those few moments
of rocking chair attention, I see
only perfect alignment cut through
the tangle of everything.