Sights Unseen

my stationary view of life
allows me to see a small
slice of what lies in front,
the greens and browns of trees,
the reds, blacks, and silvers of bricks,
the patched driveway of concrete,
and all the leaves spread around,
sometimes, blowing by me
and the blur of a bird
flying too close to the ground;

[Silent pause to reflect]

my cabinets of storage stand
like palace guards,
holding back what they know
or have heard or have seen,
but, quiet remnants of the past
like a partial table with a gas can atop it...
and a little past that,
somewhat closer to me,
are steps and a bookcase,
and then, my own fat belly...
that seems to peer back at
not realizing my fading sight;

[Silent pause to reflect]

these views of life...
my views of life,
are somewhat limited, yet,
I see more than most
and sometimes
wish I did not see at all;




[Silent pause to reflect]

those years of verbal nonsense
oftentimes spoken and
sometimes retracted and
sometimes redacted got me here...
and inside this isolation
from which I will spend
my final years or months perhaps,
who knows...
but, more than weeks or days I suppose,
in which I
say nothing...
speaking not a word
for or against whatever...
taking not a stand
no matter how feeble the principle,
since no one wants to hear
and no one wants to know
and no one wants to be disturbed
and ruin their illusions of paradise
or the stop the flow of money
that buys their silence
and their "prayed about" loyalty.

[Silent pause to reflect]

13Oct15