At First Sight

One (henceforth to be known as "I") may sense the passage
Of the years as loss. He may be hollowed out, a vessel which
No longer lives. He may continue as he has, but without
Feeling, faded, like a photograph left out in light, to little more
Than ghostly grays. Then, suddenly, an artist's hand, a finger
Prick, arrives, and he begins to feel again. The colors which had
Gone return. The vessel fills and overflows in minutes in the
Presence of another (henceforth to be known as “you”).



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 13 times
Written on 2011-04-19 at 23:22

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