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I used to be afraid To close my eyes For fear of missing something. Afraid that in that instant Of my shut lids, I would not see the birds that sing, Would not see the spiral clouds, Would not notice the passing crowds, Would not see the ivy cling. But now the instant Of closed lids Contains a library of sights, And I no longer fear To cover my aged whites, For everything l've ever seen, Every place I've ever been, Is printed, brilliant, Clear as a bell. My closed vision A vista vision cinema screen, A vista green, Of how it was, Or how it will be. I close my eyes, I see. |