"My eyes are dim
I cannot see
I have not brought my specs with me
(forte gusto) I ha-a-a-ve not broughhhht my specs with me!"
So the old pub singalong, author unknown, song goes.
Poking fun at yet another undignified symptom of aging
Which my eyes have been doing for lo,
these many years
But now with two separate operations
on right and left eyes
(the left still a startling red & white & blue eye
its sunburn peeled away, a graft from my inner eyelid applied)
I long for clarity in all things
for the exact edge of the snowline descending Goat Mountain
for the love lighting up his green eyes
when he sees I've made rhubarb & apple cobbler...
for the tulip bulbs which arrived in our good neighbour's topsoil
unannounced & which now gladden the eyes of all who walk
or drive down our alley, to see
a waving bouquet, bright red & yellow tulips
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