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■ The oak
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Looking out of the window has become a habit,
Everybody looks out of the window. They read, wash, love, die And, now and then, they make a dash for it And look out of the window. What do you want to see? Who are you looking for? Cut it out, whoever was to come has come, Whoever was to leave has left, Whatever was to pass by you has passed. Draw the curtains, Pull down the blinds, And check your blood pressure again. After it's seen it all - rain, wars, Sun, moles, events, Repeating, always alike, Mankind can't be serious in wanting To see any more. But, still, there it is, glued to the windows, An emptiness in its eyes.
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