Eyesight

 
 
 
First light bask in the oneness
Feel my tongue. Is there something to say
Drink in the silence of a wildly raucous household still asleep
Turn into a prayer breathing to adjust my sight
Self  preoccupied groaning let’s go of my pajamas
 Cartooned thoughts pop telling me that there is work to do
And play to make grandsons to love and homeless
People to feed, poems to write, Thai barbecue chicken
To create, or is it poems to create, homeless people to
Love and grandsons to feed?  Hanging upside-down skews the picture.

 

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