The midnight lamppost—
drowsy with sleep;
hushed, ghostly—
like a phantom's light!
I said to it,
"What's become of you?
Why do you sway there, standing still?"
It asks me back,
"Who are you, friend? When did you see me?
I didn't see you at all!"
"That doesn't make it my fault!
You've lit such a great light,
how could I not see you?
Why didn't you see me—
that's what puzzles!"
"I didn't light the lamp, friend,
that's why I didn't see you."
Its simple answer, smiling.