A Shadow of Sorts

Divided, I share my eyes
Though they are blind. What use
They are, I cannot tell.
No use to me, though they contain
An image from a distance
As if through a window
There was beauty suddenly
Taken away. A shadow of sorts,
But not a cloud across the sun;
No, rather a lowered face
Looking down from a height
That might be time and distance spaced
Each according to given measure;
Or heavy with weight,
Or care, or love.

   

Copyright 2003 Bret Lowery