Optical Illusion Poem by Tom Billsborough
Optical Illusion
It comes and goes
But never knows its name
In fact as far as it's concerned
It always stays the same.
In fact it isn't even there at all,
So needs no name.
Only recalled
As an occurrence to our eyes
Remotely beautiful,
A brief rose which soon discards its petals.
Its daily round is ours,
Its non-existence towers
Above us and greedily
Consumes our wonder
With its pretend presence.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 6:53:08 AM # 1.0.0.1119
A brief rose which soon discards its petals- excellent.
thank you, Sumit. Mind you my miniature roses seem to last much longer! tom