Seeing Before Words
The wider world gets fuzzy
When I take off my glasses
Drink that third glass of wine
During my meditation
If I close my eyes no fog remains
But fog of brain
For now the weight of frames
On the bridge of my nose
Is enough
To cause minuscule muscles to constrict
Carrying an ache upward between my eyebrows
I cannot help but be made happy by this
A friendly cough welcomed
Because it is more expected than not
A motor made for freezing
Adds a humming that soothes
Even as it starts and stops
I find comfort in the settling in
To the fog, the ache, the happiness, the cough, the humming
It seems I need this space to feel, once seen
Before the words appear
And we speak again
— by Me
Portrait by Melissa Thorpe, Hilltop Hausfrau on Etsy
inspired by a prompt from the book, Ways of Seeing by John Berger
sometimesihatemycat 
very good – the soundscape of silence
Thank you very much.
You have a wonderful ability to capture the minute things of life and make them poetry
Thank you. For me the minute is the indeed the stuff of life. I have noticed that when I really am aware of the little things, it somehow helps me to appreciate the big stuff even more.
It is absolutely true.
Beautiful expression of what we do. I really like this poem.
Thank you Alan. Your compliments mean a lot. So much good writng comes out of our group (much better than mine I think.) I can’t wait to get an e-journal together.