The individual losses and the collective gains:
I know what I am. If there was a way to ask
For sanctuary from the tyranny of the Real,
I certainly would. There are exceptions,
Of course--but no absence from the System:
The Spring snow falls on the eaglets
In the nest, but does not fall on me.
*
I watch the wind move the rosy finch
On the branch tip in elliptical circles
While he sings--it's a song to joy,
A human trait, that, I perceive
(Watching the finch), we know not
At all: the song rising and spinning,
A lifetime with the laughter of children.
*
The wetlands of Los Angeles hold more
Yellows than we can conceive in dreams---
In such shame, flying past flowers
Without names (invisible), we go to work,
Annoyed at the light, the slow Corolla:
A test, every day, to perceive. A chance. . .
I see you, at last. I see you, every one.
