We choose the starling over the rooster,
the apricot over the plum.

In sum the tastes of one
are from long striving

to understand what composes
an identity to fill out as your own.

There are paintings I “enjoy”
though I know not why.

The compatibility of vision is
perhaps unknowable.

Describe this wine without
terms of preposterous stretches

of linkage to tobacco, slate,
the smell of burnt cloves,etc.

The skiff sits in the placid bay
as the sun sets beyond the harbor:

A scene of serene meaning
possibly beyond explanation.