On Seeing the Strangest Things

Every day we see the strangest things.
Lamp posts toppled by the wind,
Mountainsides swept away by simple men,
and we make
the usual careful adjustments
for our eyes to cope with the
full shock of fire and force so

The wondrous passage of time,
The limitless unfolding of memory,
those are
The twin, miraculous trees,
dripping soft,
incandescent fruits
so heavy with potency
that we forget the taste
of anguished dismay

Every day we see the strangest things
Water lapping over the lip of a curb,
The warm features of a carved wooden rabbit,
smooth with years,
And I lose
all of my collected, glowing fruit,
My heart is emptied, exultant
as a tree barren of leaves,
and I forget
how to understand
why I am not with you.