by M. M. Kolf
Mark my words!
That spirit is a sly one.
When I began my search for it
Quick as lightening it found me.
And then it stole from me!
My eyes, (Seeing shadows
Mostly, and hurting in light
Were fine by me
Though nearly blind)
Were well trained
In the art of despair
That darkened my world.
They managed to see ghastly things at times,
And I thought them adequate.
But while I wasn’t looking,
That spirit snatched them
I’m sure it must be so ‘cause
I haven’t found them anywhere!
And though perhaps I should take issue
Having never given my consent
To seeing things I’ve never seen
With new eyes that see quite piercingly,
A world I now see is quite beautiful,
I prefer to let bygones be bygones
And to quell my querulous nature
And let that spirit have its way
(And my old eyes).
