Monday, November 08, 2021

Choosing


Choosing

Was it home or foreign
 that city without color
 where I once lived for a time
 that often seemed long
 thinking there was no choice 
and all night I heard the captive
 lions roaring

 now I look back
 from when the rain is falling
 in the bright day

 a friend and I
 talked back then about a tree
 whose branches were the choice that we
 had not taken
 then she chose not to be

 never was there any such tree

 better
 the sound of the rain
 better the brightness falling
 better the day
 choosing to be morning

--W.S. Merwin

photo: Henri Cartier Bresson