Amblyopia

Soon you'll be reading to me
Do my banking for me
(Slipping checks past me?)

You'll be my look-out at the beach
Tell me who is passing:
The girls in bikinis,
The boys in muscles,
The old who can still separate dark from light,
And above all, the sun expiring
A turquoise dot at the very edge
Of seeing (that I can no longer see).

You'll drive my car
And not only be my vision
But ears and heart and love.
The visions I once had
When driving at night
(Will you be driving me mad?)
The great redwoods arching overhead
Will pass without my permission.

Don't grieve for me
Don't say "brave;"
Brave only comes to those who have a choice.
Besides they say those without eyes
Can hear every sound.
You'll never escape from me.

You'll read to me eight hours a day
The ones I could never see before
With mine own naked eyes:
The Æneid, Dickens, Tolstoi,
The Iliad (Blind Homer!)
The Canterbury Tales, Dante
Paradise Found and Lost (Blind Milton!)

You'll lead me by the hand to bed
The hearth of my cooling days;
You'll speak to me of the darkening hours,
Ask if my soul is warm enough,
If this night is black enough.
The two of us can contemplate
The two dark coals of the sun.

--- Reneé Gisell