Through the window, the world’s a blur
Wet paint smudged, colours blended
Features distorted, faces unclear
Unknowable, seen through a glass darkly
These hints of a world unrealised
Create a painful tension
Taunting, teasing,
Near but not yet here
Finally all becomes clear
My reading glasses remained in place
When lifted from their nasal perch
The world reconfigured, made anew
I wonder though…
Do I still see through obscuring lenses
Which if similarly removed might reveal
A better world, as yet concealed
Today’s poem was inspired by a trip into the kitchen with my reading glasses on.
(08.10.21)
© Ben Quant 2021
