Ross Olson's Web Site

Poetry: Searching

The Mind's Eye

The mental eye that concentrates
On watching bright and dull parades
That pass before it every day
Sits calmly in a swivel chair.

It runs an automated shop
That only needs a go-ahead
To read a memory, act a thought.
And "eye" is of the same stuff wrought?

Ross Olson

Send comments to me at ross{at}

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