PLANE VERSUS PLANE
The end of March the frost tried again.
To make a horizontal plane.
All winter long the wind prevailed.
Each icy surface systematically failed.
Then as if to give an inch.
The entire surface was convinced.
To spread a sheet so shiny and clean.
That every reflection was a new scene.
The wind took a vacation that one night.
The frost creeped across in the moonlight.
So when the morning came.
The mountains and the water looked the same.
The mirror was so complete.
That sky and water did not compete.
Nature stood me on my head.
And I remembered what Joni Mitchell said.