one thing is like another thing, enough that the mind insists, saying this other, this other, this is the same. is one field so unlike another? then call this one essex county, after that first one.

but why name anything, why not let it be its bleached and fallow self. why not let the starlings reel above it, why try to interpret their flight?

but the mind resists, it insists. even me, especially me, with all my describing.

i wanted it all to belong to me, so i named it as though it already did.