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Sights

As he wiped the perspiration from beneath his aging brow, It finally occured to this ancient man how he'd gotten there somehow.
All the days and all the miles and all the sights to see, were never seen from this man's eyes, he was blind as blind could be.
He chuckled he smirked, smiled and laughed at what he thought he'd seen. The water so clear, the sky so blue, and of course the grass so green.
He had been told there were fields of gold, the amber waves of grain, but he only heard the sound of the wind as it blew across the plain.
The night, the dark, the light of day, the bright, the bold, the milkyway. The moon, the stars, the clouds, the sky, the things unseen, the blinded eye.
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Submitted by DaveCronkBuffalo on April 22, 2021

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    "Sights" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2021. Web. 19 Sep. 2021. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/98048/sights>.

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