Is this a stage, a between,
Or is this the end of it?
So what if few things get through?
What’s here that was never there?
Bruised doors and outlined flowers
Don’t count. They’re too similar
To what was on the first side.
The atmosphere trembles, or
The light. And of course that’s why.
People arrived in new lands
Not only incorrectly
Identify local finds
With familiar forms from home—
Much that is too new to them
They don’t even see at all.
What’s here that appears unseen?
That’s what would be most likely
Something that was never there.
The dead send so few letters
To the living, maybe, since
It’s invisible seeing.
Thursday, January 11, 2024
Invisible Seeing
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