Some poetry (not mine)
I recently came across this bit, by Mark Svenvold, from a poem titled, "Lines Composed an Hour and Ten Minutes by Interstate from South Orange, New Jersey, from a Title Written by a Student and Drawn at Random from a Hat, in Late August, 2011."
I'd love to share the whole poem with you, but that would feel a little copyright-infringey.
Anyway, I cite this bit because I love surprising juxtapositions of words or images. Here, a personified nostalgia, the phrase "gurgling agriculture."
Sometimes nostalgia
sits down next to you on a bench and doesn't speak,
lights a cigarette, blows out the match, and looks
at the view of fields across an Etruscan valley
thick with gurgling agriculture, and waits for you to make
a smart remark. And sometimes there's nothing to say.
I'd love to share the whole poem with you, but that would feel a little copyright-infringey.
Anyway, I cite this bit because I love surprising juxtapositions of words or images. Here, a personified nostalgia, the phrase "gurgling agriculture."