Found it in the blades of grass
Them perhaps
His glasses there
No stains
Just wear
Worn many days to months and years
In sun and rain and snow
Lenses made bright dim
Haze to focus
Lifted up to massage the bridge
Thumb and forefinger
Then pushed back

Steps back across the yard
Wonder when he mowed last
Had he given up his past
These steps he takes left all aghast

Deny your light and you will see
Darkness on a summer’s day
If it’s all too bright
Than he just might
Take out his gun
Shut out the light


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