untitled fourteen

"If I were not certain about what I have seen, certain that there has been no weak link in my logic, no error in my observations, no lapse in the relentless progressions of my observations, I would consider myself simply the victim of some hallucination, deceived by some fantasy." ...Guy de Maupassant 1850-1893

theres one hanging limbs over the bridge not noticed unless by me cause i sit here and watch it hour by hour overlord the cars and occasional ped passing innocently under and never noticed that today there was no wind and yet...yet...each time an other passed
beneath there was a faint oh how so faint ripple of the now bare branches...one side to the east the other west it stands and has done so for some time faintly rippling at each and every other traveling innocently below and me does it know im watching think so cause there is a squirrel a red one who should not be about this time of year but he (i know hes he) has climbed above the stream and looked in my window this one is faintly red he is and every time I look over the sink hes there in innocence he thinks but me he doesnt know that paranoia strikes me deep and i am prepared for this i saw him as a being that should not be for sure this red squirrel and today as i looked up from writing there he was crossing the bridge moving towards that tree with only a brief look over his shoulder to me hes thinking i know i thought just sitting here wondering what the hell...yes i see this one is counting but for what it counts each ripple recording what how many this and that i wonder what they do these other older ones who watch and watch and watch...us.

fifteen   thirteen   twelve   eleven   ten   nine   eight   seven   six   five   four  

three   two   one