The beginner's mind
seems like
such a hopelessly difficult thing
to come by
after Todd,
the candid landscape architect,
stands and ends
his rain-plagued tour
of the garden grounds
by stating, as if
it were fact—that
the pruned
juniper hedges
flanking the whole perimeter,
which somehow trap
and hold the spearmint
smell of summer thunder-
storms long past,
and which
somehow even manage
to ensnare the silvery
light of the moon
in a neatly repeatable
demonstration
that even the homeliest
little spider's nest
is more breath-
lessly intricate
than any
cartoon web you could
draw or
picture in your head—
obviously, just make
the whole
place—look
dated.
