Horizonte

White shoulders against a gray-tan world. Figure in the mist, but all is clear. As to language--Bello Horizonte--the sound of it. From the Latin--where form supercedes feeling... How is that now not possible? Catullus, Horace...Ovid. Too much of a track record. And yet, the Mediterranean light--with fewer middle tones, shadings. Where are those northern shadows...the long, slow dusk in Amsterdam, fading into evening...