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.
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