Black-Headed Juncos and Blue Piñon Jays

So says the beast to the hidden,
Yes, that’s how it actually is.
That’s what always fascinates us—

The first battlefield photographs,
The video in utero,
The pink skies robots show on Mars—

Oh, so that’s how it really is.
I want to dwell a while on that,
Experience what I haven’t

And may never experience
Explicitly through my senses.
Later, I meditate on them,

My moments among other worlds,
Mediated revelations,
While considering qualia

For these familiar little birds
Within my senses, foraging
In wayside snowbanks beside me.