On Sight II
I could not see to see - Emily Dickinson you gave me three orange roses that dried quickly in their vase no one seemed to have remembered the water and to save them only a twisted whirl losing sight of the crow startled me, winter sun stillness, dove naturally past the fence decentering the vision suddenly left and gone just me, so quiet so blurry and then your gaze conveniently setting hurricanes aside resisted the light yet, I believe in natural laws, constructing meaning from nothing closing acts settling back home