Speckled Sight

You can see the speckles when
you close your eyes. Leave them closed
for long enough and they begin
     to disappear
just as the rushed impression of
a morning when I wake takes
a while to clear. The clarity dazzles
     at first, then smarts.

Looking with a true desire
to see clearly likewise stings.
How often have I applied the comfort
     of a blindfold.
How often have you? It's taken a life
for my speckles to disappear, the light
to be welcomed in, and to finally see
     pure as that desire.

So when you walk into a room
in which I am already, and
I close my eyes, they're closed in search
     of you.
Close yours too, and you shall see
the way I've come to see, as the speckles
dissolve, like stars at dawn, and turn
     to me . . .

James B. Nicola
If you have any thoughts on this poem, James B. Nicola
would be pleased to hear them.