into the flower mountains

now the sharp air the welding light the novel in a million steps

imagining the wind imagining clouds

imagining mountains of flowers imagining a highway imagining vehicles ploughing through flowers

below the snow line currawongs concatenate high trees brown top stringy barks blue gums peppermints

all glazed by an imaginary pianist articulating minute photographs on pianos in a factory full of themes and variations of the heroes of the hour

I can’t believe I’m not that piano in my richter room non trompe l’oeil all for the price of opening my eyes but

I’m walking on flower mountains