When I open my wallet
to show my papers
pay money
or check the time
of a train
I look at your face.
The flower`s pollen
is older than the mountains
Aravis is young
as mountains go.
The flower`s ovules
will be seeding still
when Aravis then aged
is no more than a hill.
The flower in the heart`s
wallet, the force
of what lives us
outliving the mountain.
And our faces, my heart, brief as photos.
-John Berger, 1984.
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