Vassar Student Review

Vassar Student Review

A Day Without Definition

By Allison Lowe

Rain poured out over the glen—

as mist engulfed the green landscape, I wondered what language

 

the land thinks in. Wild rivers, cradled valleys, aching hillsides—

what are they thinking as they see us here? Does the earth have a word

 

for the rain? Maybe I am too anthropocentric, maybe the land has a way

of speaking that is far beyond anything human language could express.

 

What is semantics to an oak tree? Syntax to the grass?

I have been thinking too much about language,

 

about the words of myself and others. I wish I could experience the world

in true silence—no thoughts, no memory, no me.

 

Maybe then, I could know the rain like the earth does.

Maybe then, I could look at the bugs in the dirt and wish for nothing more.

It must be odd for...

I kick around the dust...

There is a horrendous roar...

if the mountains call for...

when you’re at the bottom...

I love you mint chocolate...

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