Landscape

From my trawling I see
The field of olive trees
open and closes like a fan.
Above the olive grove a fund-ring
sky and a dark rain of cold stars.
Bulrush and penumbra tremble
at the river's edge.
The gray air ripples.
the olive trees are laden with
cries.
A flock of capacitive birds
moving their long long
tails in the gloom...
This from my latest voyage.