DAILY PHOTO: Amantani Island Jetty
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I watch the chairs
That watch the ocean,
Wondering whether
Some passerby will take
A seat to admire
The turquoise water
& crashing surf.
No one does.
Tourist and local alike
Spill by in a rush to get
Through paradise to
Somewhere else --
Probably a cruddy
Hotel room or
Unloved job.
Of course, if someone
Did take a seat,
They might be run off
On the grounds that
These are proprietary
Chairs.
[That's just the petty world
In which we live;
Where a business will
Protect its space for
Exclusive use by
Nonexistent customers.]
One might suggest that
It's too hot to sit
And admire the ocean,
But by the time those chairs
Have cooled,
The view will be
Blackness.

unfurled buds,
not drooped to gravity,
tell Spring’s story.

trunk splits to branches
that stretch to the edge
of oxygen’s crossing.

lone watcher leans
on pagoda railing
to view sunrise.
One must have a mind of winter
To regard the frost and the boughs
Of the pine-trees crusted with snow;
And have been cold a long time
To behold the junipers shagged with ice,
The spruces rough in the distant glitter
Of the January sun; and not to think
Of any misery in the sound of the wind,
In the sound of a few leaves,
Which is the sound of the land
Full of the same wind
That is blowing in the same bare place
For the listener, who listens in the snow,
And, nothing himself, beholds
Nothing that is not there and the nothing that is.