Sunshine

Watching a rocky slope do
Nothing much about what passed
Over it, not protesting

Even when the machines came
To collect the rocks and left
Only the unreconstructed dirt,

The wish to divide the world
Into the world of those rocks
Versus the wholly human

Grew nearly overwhelming—
If only you could divide
And then inhabit that part—

World of rocks, sun, and weather—
To which you’d never belong.
But your worlds would not divide

For you, and here you are, years
And decades later, humans
Still slaughtering each other,

As if something different
In human behavior were
Likely to have cropped up

In such a short interval.
You’re looking at another
Rocky landscape this morning,

Officially dying, but
Still you take joy in the light,
Still would pick worlds, if you could.