On a Rock on a Ridge

When I sat on a rock, on a ridge,
I saw something
I didn’t see elsewhere.
I saw something, heard something—

I looked around; on a distant hill
There were other trees, other ridges—

A squirrel grabbed a small pine nut, scampered to another rock,
Turned, froze on me—
Then in a blink, vanished.

What I saw, gone.
What I heard, gone.

I looked behind, upward
There were higher trees, higher ridges—

I might see something, hear something, even more there—
Something more again, just there.