inside the picture
beyond the canvas
to the end of the painted road
where light and space converge
so that the foreground tree
occupies the same space
as that distant bush
and the hills behind   are not behind
are also in the same place
but smaller     this is so flat
you  can place your hand on hills 
bush and tree and touch them all 
yet  you know that between them
there are miles of air and land
all crushed together
into the thickness  of a layer of paint

Jim Bennett

If you have any thoughts on this poem,  Jim Bennett  would be pleased to hear them.