Someone always pays attention, or dreams about you.
When I look at how the light softens darkness’ edges,
I’m reminded that simpleness of theory
and complexity of action is what rotates the earth on its axis.
An acorn does one thing, and a tree does another,
and even when the tree makes seeds, it does not know what they do.
And maybe admiring the sap’s trickle in the sun light
next to the woodpecker holes is the only reason either one exists
for a few minutes or a hundred years, and I wonder if the holes
are too simple or small, and I know the hollows that hurt the tree
fed the bird, and the inside of the tree, would not have seen sunlight.
