Outgrowing Vision

Life is a rotating assembly line of eyeballs
And trying on each pair until one fits.
They are a bit like shoes, I suppose –
Getting worn down and bent out of place
With the traversing of roads and time.

That’s life, too.
You trip on your way out the door
And the heel of your shoe snaps.
You open another door
To find your lover in bed with your best friend
And there’s a hazy cloud in your line of sight
That was not there before.

At what point did you outgrow your vision?
Or when did you shrink inside of it,
The curve of your pupils shying away
From all you wanted to avoid seeing?

So here we are at the eyeball fitting factory.
Choose your color and size.
Customize your cornea – determine exactly
How much light to let into your head.

The trick is to pick your eyes
Like you’d pick your shoes.
Pick the eyes that make you feel
Like you can outrun the world.


9 thoughts on “Outgrowing Vision

  1. “At what point did you outgrow your vision?”

    More than once. And sometimes it HURT real bad.

    Very nice poem. I’m so glad to have you here stirring up the silt from the bottom again. 🙂

      1. I’ve had several major vision changes in the past three years. Funny. I can never tell for sure that I’ve outgrown my vision till I’m well past due. I shall look around today through this new metaphor. Perhaps the next won’t catch me off guard.

        Happy Solstice, my friend. 🙂

        1. I’m the same way! I look around one day and think to myself: “Behold. I am blind.” And then I realize it’s time for a visit to that ol’ eyeball fitting factory.

          I think I, too, will try to be more aware of when this happens. Thanks for going through this process with me 🙂

          And a Happy Solstice to you, as well!


          1. Wow. You actually think these exact words: “Behold. I am blind”? I’m impressed. That is SO much more poetic than me. Usually I think a swear word version of dang-dang-dang-dang or carp-carp-carp-carp. 😉


Thoughts? I love those.

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