Same Sky, Different Hills, 9/4/10

There is a beauty here
not yet ruined by the slipshod and half assed
the abundance of the lowest bidder
A beauty not writ in pastels and soft tint
harsh, in brown and slate, olive and beige
not the beauty of the sparrow's fall
but the beauty of the hawk in flight
Still, one line of hills looks much like another
The only difference is scale
and the horizon is much the same
the sky is the same as the one above her head
Though here it is blue, bold and rough
there it is grey, soft and light
but the same sky nevertheless
Same sky, different hills