I strain to see
With but one eye,
My impulse
Aim’s to spy,
Or entice
Birds or flies,
Out of the sky…
I effort yet
With a lame eye,
Imposed by mites
On a hellish plight,
That may encroach
On lifeline’s sight
And sure as well
My sense of smell…
Besieged am I
By acute stress,
As I’ve no way
To so express,
Should I go blind
Or loose my scent,
I’ll ne’er again gaze
At a moon that amazed,
Nor sense a morrows’
Night time finds!
ode to Kallista