Seeing things

Phil Burpee

I’m getting old
but my eyes are still good
and weirdly, I think getting better all the while -
don’t need glasses
to see that line of Limber pine and Doug firs
on that far ridge line – crystal sharp
and I love that
that farness and yet nearness
five spikes there
then a dark comb against the blue
the golden grasses spilling down towards me
in a tawny flood


I almost think I can see the hawk
perched on that snag
these five miles distant
and then I think I can see the stars
behind the shimmering sky
because I know they’re there – I saw them last night
above that same hill
and across that same blue yonder

seeing things –
what’s that supposed to mean?
things is all we can see
in their colours, their light

yes, I see that line of Limber pine and Doug firs
on that far ridge line – so fine, so fine
and I hear the hawk
and I smell those cottonwood leaves
and I feel that wind
and I taste this tang of autumn

and I’m glad to be alive
alive to it all
to witness and revere
against that coming day
when I lay me down
and behold such things no more.

Phil Burpee
October 2017