Under Clearer Skies

Incomprehensible, these lines
Overlaid upon a once soothing green.
Someone else's rules in play, I think,
And If I grasp them, it's at best imperfectly,
Sufficient only it seems
To define my alienation
Within close cropped fragments,
Soiled by all this sad impurity.

How then to escape the lines?
This tyranny of old thinking,
With the times, seeming so long fallen
From the clock,
Numbers adding to nothing,
Arrows pointing glibly to the past.

I can only lie here for now, quiet,
And close my eyes,
Imagine meadows of a purer green,
Under clearer skies.