By Jan Wiezorek
The Grand Tetons, Thomas Hart Benton,
1955-60, Grand Rapids Art Museum
Brother, who knows birds by sight and sound,
has such a well-rounded mind that far aspens
model themselves as near-spheres, bushes twist
into circles, foothills become mounds, and Tetons
shape themselves as curvilinear—when he took
a covered wagon out west, he ate from a round pot
over fire, and slept curled in wool blankets—home
again, he told of summer there, with yellow growing
wild—and, in winter, he saw full circle—scrub jays
flying around him, singing. Today, father tracks
brother’s lost soul while riding horseback, following
each rise that smiles, and circling back to Teton range.
Vision and inspiration guide our leanings, true as line,
easing into the cardinal directions we follow, sensing
outlines of souls that still hide from us in the grasses.