Some Little Thoughts

All too late, I fear,
No longer can I wait;
My eyesight fades
And, in the darkness,
No light shall enter my world,
No sun shall I see,
No moon shall cast shadows;
No colour shall enter this grey,
Permanent night:
For my time is lost
And, with it, my sight. 

What would I give
To recapture time, if I could;
To back the clock,
To see a red sunrise,
Climbing over a becalmed sea?
In my mind, I still recall
Those days of rabid bliss,
When life’s joys abounded
And, like a tree, heavy with fruit, just ripe,
I could pluck them, one by one,
Oh! Happy days of sight! 

All too late, I fear:
Those glory days are gone. My fate
Is to live my final days,
Without the brightness of the sun,
Without the soft paleness of the moon,
Without noting spring’s transformations, from brown
To all the colours of the spectrum.
I recall what could have been
Had I the wit to know life’s fate.
Now, too late.
I go, blind poet incarnate.