Why do we go to the top To look and take photographs When there are much better Ones, professionally done, In the shop at the bottom Of the hill? Why write More poems saying The same things others Have said and sing the same Songs over and over As though there were Nothing really new under The sun and we Would have it so? Must we try Our hand to see How well we do? We surely aren't Seeking something Entirely new which May be unthinkable. Drawing our pictures Inward is the way To see however much We can make of the view That we might see And know and only Incidentally tell.