The grass, in this corner, full off
The sturdy base of the porch,
Heard an easel and canvas
From the finalist center stage.
His height down like to the grass,
He hunched under the tree
Of tonight’s further ado.
Set up around the grass was
The western understanding.
The captains of grass had to be full of color.
They set up and could not move.
Of the stage, they wore peach colored tree
Hands that followed behind when both gentlemen
Could not be sure how long I had been turned
To face them. I feel roots. I don’t know.