Where are My Glasses?

Glasses? Who needs glasses?

Only need them when my eyes are open.

Thankful for the 20/20 I’d

Otherwise be denied.

Pity these old eyes can’t seem to

Focus on their own

Except in dreams where my imagination 

Reaches far and wide.

 

I see other folks my age

Stroll free and unencumbered by

The dual panes that ride the nose

Like cowboys in a saddle.

Wonder why the Good Lord chose

To have me hide my features

Behind glass and wire and plastic

As though my brain were addled.

 

But then, upon considering that

Sight to some has been denied,

My feckless fear of vanity

Throws caution to the masses.

Blessed to see the sunrise/sunset.

Blessed to know my loved ones faces.

Thankful for the awkward task

To ask, “where are my glasses?”