I am blind without you
yet others think I see.
Painting pictures, as did
ancient Greek astronomers,
of things they didn’t know, and
lights they could never reach.
Knowing there was absolute
beauty and knowledge there.
All I can see now, staring into
any distance, are two people sitting
on a bench staring across the ocean.
One thinking about writing this poem
sometime, hopefully not
too soon.
It ends, seeing is recalling
what was worth remembering.
Sitting there, staring at the ocean