Impression, Sunrise Poem by Hans Ostrom

Confusion simplifies:
sun’s a red dot in murk,
boat’s a black patch
on murk, just a spill
of red light lets seeing tell
a difference between one
murk and another. It’s all
a seeming in which morning
looks as vague as thoughts
or the other way around, and
blended seemings compose
a soup which eyes will taste as light,
air, water. A painter makes
one moist concoction seem
like another, and we look at
what seems to have been seen
and imagine we see it.