It is quite telling
where the seeing eye
chooses to look..
in its attempts
to piece together,
out of rhymey riddles..
underlying truth.

Our earthly instincts
always tell us
to suspect ill will.
Another motive,
lustful or perverse,
that’s lying hidden..
sitting still.

Don’t frighten,
little sparrow,
I am real.
I am no phantom,
I assure you
of that fact..
but then again..
wouldn’t a phantom
also say just that?