"Marsh View" by David Starnes

From a window upstairs
you can watch the earth redesign
itself as mud, tall grass, and birds
as well as light, as well you must
stay drawn to shades of green,
ideals of green, all means of gold,
of russet, rust, colors beyond
association, barely earthbound.

You wake to the world the way
it ought to have remained, without
the squatters, the first of the big spenders.
Better to spend an hour at dawn
studying tides, deferring to songbirds
than measuring even your insignificance.
The window frames it all, the world contained
in its original skin, beyond your love.