Sights

I wake in the morning to my favorite sight
Siamese light baby blue eyes
a yawn so big, pointy teeth exposed
shaking her head, a stretch morphs into a pose

Out of the window see another sight
squirrels in the trees of acorns delight
sun shining bright glazing over pavements
trees provide shade to bald heads enslavement

She wakes in the morning to her familiar sight
her eyes only open to black hold the white
blues, purples, yellows, reds,
she knows the words but vision is dead

Though hearing is perfect, laughter and cheers
wondering how smiles look ear to ear
nothing wrong with her limbs, she skips and races
if only she knew what it meant to see faces

So wake up in the morning grateful for your sight
for those who can’t see let’s lend them our light
don’t be the only one to bask in your sunrise
don’t take it for granted, see double for their eyes