Clear Vision

CLEAR VISION In a distant crowd innumerable Our friends - like stars - look rather similar. Their very sameness seems immutable: Bland and unused days on our calendar. Some dimly fill the nightly ocular With colors varied. Small or large, although As dwarfs or giants in vernacular. Darkly far, stars and men but poorly glow. But closer yet, all make a richer show: A mother’s eyes unique, a husband’s handgrip tight: We need their special soft attention so -- And life, as given by the Sun -- our right. Our blessings true are always close at hand. We do not see them in some distant band. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . (Spenserian sonnet in iambic pentameter) Written by Sydney Peck Entered in Debbie Guzzi ‘s Contest “Debbie and Cyndi's Sonneteers”