Who has ever witnessed such a thing?
Are they migratory?
In which rituals are they celebrated?
Or are they a simple pinwheel waiting breath?
Like a plate, its salad. Paper a twist, a turn, a stem of words?
You have arrived at the seat of questions. Is a chair ever singular? When you abstract a chair, where do you arrive? How odd, to abstract the chair, the initial image multiplies. Well, now we know a chair is never singular. Is the same true of a knife? A poem?
So, here's the inside scoop of how the olive tree views a redwood. They go right for the center. Why wouldn't they? Perhaps not a bird's-eye-view, but one that's pit-centered. Now, think about the fruit and centers of a poem? Imagine each letter a pit anticipating its center. Yup, pits and poems.