I look at the dark sky above, the sea
below, also dark, look at the blue
sky in the distance: far, beautiful view;
then the slivered sea below, for me
blinding. I turn away. For one or two
minutes I see nothing, the room is dark;
the eyes adjust, once more I see the stark
simplicity I live in: couch, a few
old chairs, the table where I eat, unless
I’m writing, short of time, eat where I cook,
impatient to return and read that book
or write my poem. I don’t mind the mess
the house is in. She died a week ago.
I know the sky which blinds me lies below.
From Timeless Love - Poems by Peter Dane