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OBSCURITY 

Curly hair frames your face 
Eyes staring, not seeing me. 
Your eyes see nothing; they never will. 
I pity you . but why? 
You see the sunrise with your ears 
As the birds begin to talk, and know the sunset 
By the end of their conversation . 
You watch the fragrance of the opening roses . 
Fingertips see satin grasses, powdery sand, 
Crisp dry leaves in autumn . 
All you see in so many ways. 
I long to see so well. 

Marlene DeMeyer 

/I 

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