Nothing Left Except Affection

Comparing, winning, losing,
Comparing wins and losses,
The needle-eyed human soul

Stitches tragic tapestries,
Stories it makes, tales it needs.
Comparing. At the smallest,

Smallest levels, life survives
By discriminating, by
Useful comparison—

The warmer spot in the sunlight,
The greener patches on the log—
But there’s not no comparing.

Still your thoughts dream toward it,
Old man on the brink of no one,
That world without comparison.