Heave up that saber

And swing it above your head.

See how the light 

Flashes across the long, curved edge.

It's sharp enough to separate a man from his life

But it's the imperfections in the edge that catch the light.

Go out walking

On a day in early spring.

Make careful note

Of the things you do not see.

There's the wind in the distance that just passed you by.

There're the stars up above that need darkness for light.

You hold that saber

In your easy, graceful way

Just like the sky

Holds the dead man's calm and steady gaze.

You saw that saber flashing in the noonday light

But he saw another blade that was hidden from your sight.

Bruce Brown
Seattle
July 1975