Blindman See's

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
Guided by my faithful dog,
he takes me on a journey through the park.

Submitted: November 25, 2007

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Submitted: November 25, 2007

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Blindman See's

Guided by my faithful dog,

he takes me on a journey through the park.

 

The wind is blowing, shuffling of leaves I can hear,

Fall has come, and leaves I know are turning.

 

He leads me to a bench, I therefore set down,

putting his head on my lap, I scratch behind his ears.

 

I wish I could see, but my sight has gone,

macular degeneration has taken it's toll.

 

As I sit there thinking, something brushes across my face,

and I am quick to grab, a leaf is bestowed upon me.

 

I hold it in my hand's, run my fingers across it's veins,

in my mind this leaf takes shape, a maple leaf, I bet it's red.

I hold up to my nose, and take in it's musty smell,

the saturated scents of time, has been embedded.

 

Damn, I wish I could see again, and haistly toss the leaf to the ground.

I pull out my flask, and take a hefty swig, bourbon now upon my breath.

 

Well, come on boy, it's time to go home, 

I smell rain in the air, and the coldness is creeping in.

 

 

Author notes

prompt blindness, describe through scent, touch, taste, hear


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