Finally, A Good Prescription

"You look at the world through rose-colored glasses"

These are the eyeglasses of rejoicing—
They are clear
It is the world that is rosy.

Pilgrim

Sore pilgrim-eyeball,
Shining tramp,
Begging like a small god in rags
From bored face to annoyed face,
from universe to universe

Vagrant Chalice

I walk a lot,
Often lost,
Bearing my poor sight
Like a disgraced ancient chalice
To where
It will serve.

Eye

The eye is always
In love.

May

Held high through a May night,
My eye lolls on perfume
Poring in hope from the stars.

Finding Faces

In agony, on all fours,
Alone and poor,
Weeping into its fibers,
I'm fascinated that my eye finds faces
In the sumptuously soiled rug.