When Kant was composing
his Critique of Pure Reason
he would look up from his manuscript
at the tower in the center of town.
He gazed so long the trees grew up
and obscured his vision.
He informed the city fathers of Konigsberg
and they gladly chopped down the trees.
Thus he was able to finish his work.
Here in the country outside my window
the trees tower and wave their arms mockingly.
I work anyway, here a word, there a line.
Always when I awake in the morning
I run to the window to see if this is the day
my three hundred farmers have arrived,
morning chores all done, murmuring
quietly, axes on their shoulders.
-from The New Physics
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