PART III



LETTERS TO THE EDITOR





God was sitting on his front porch--

As an interstellar traveler

It didn’t make much difference where he sat

But he liked the settled, in the middleness of it--

It was time to check his eyes--

Tight, close-up reading

Or peering far into the distance

His activities were pretty much evenly divided--

He had no schedule for it--

What was time after all?

Only the interest of the moment

He reflected on countless times--

His eye flashed to a ground somewhere in a near distance--

God didn’t know where near and far intersected--

Like the falcon, a bird he almost could be said

To esteem above all others

Soaring so high and suddenly focusing

On the tiniest movement

Hundreds of meters below him