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