Geometry of the Unfolded Circle




From my planetary arrival, I could see the lingering blue stretch from dawn to sunset.

The Pacific, point A to point B, I always know the steady reliability of a straight line.

The bay of Naples, a limited view, so I climb, shale biting holes in my shoes, to see from Mt. Vesuvius.

London, trapped in fog and no avocados to remind me there is more than Buckingham Palace.

Always the lure of the line except for dust dry Kansas and weariness of windswept prairie.

Trapped by Rocky Mountains, no bodies of water, I never did see a vertical mile high.

Now, a lake and a bay and so many islands ensure me the horizon still exists.


C.J. Prince



About cjprinceauthor

I write. I read. I write and read...I listen to raindrops on begonias, talk to ravens, dance with dragons. I practice Tai Chi in a barn, I sleep with earth stones and tarot cards. I celebrate each day. Join me!
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2 Responses to Geometry of the Unfolded Circle

  1. susanissima says:

    The lure of the line…wow! Incredible poem, Cj.

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