Versions of truth in february

Two truths, two perceptions.

Frozen in morning rain.

The tree appears green but my dog

sees yellowish-brown leaves.

The tree absorbs blue light.

Sponge-like, sucking in sky.

I see green light reflected back.

My dog doesn’t know this.

So many other truths

must be beating right now.

They are as real as heartbeats.

The rain stops. It’s funny.

I thought truths were certain.

Singular. But, they are

intensely personal. Plural.

New forms of the same tree.