Prospective for a Phenomenology: The Things Themselves

Like a leaf the image falls because
The leaves are changing
Color when the wind blows from what
Chasms in the earth their range
Is a brightness winging its caw,
And the pecker with a red
Beak drils himself further
Into the wood. What matter,

Can you see?

For who is to say that image doesn't already contain
What we who can anticipate its change
Across the oceans, over tomorrow's reflections observed...

And it glides like a leaf.