Sunset

There was a lush green redwood tree Set against a brilliant winter sky Of magnificent sunset There was an unseen breeze Whose presence The movements of foliage bespoke And there was that wood-pecker Laboring on the dry finger Of a dying cotton-wood Who saw that? A question of depth Because I had lost myself In that ethereal sight I was beside myself I was the tree, the sky The sunset, breeze Rustle of the leaves Wood-pecker, cotton-wood And the whole scene One after the other Till I asked the stupid question "Who saw it? " And with that my nascent ignorance Is back with a vengeance Then I am the one who saw The seen are alien to me I saw the scene With my eyes Threatened by an impending cataract Oh, I am to see the doc Next day morning A being that likes To languish bound in misery Despite the freedom of beautiful sunsets That it encounters and loses itself At least once in a while