Photo by Hermes Rivera on Unsplash. For The Poetic Asides prompt #554
**
Sometimes I think
that my sight is leaving me,
the common, quotidian comfort
of seeing the world that touches me
slowly slipping away, taking flight
but not yet gone; only a little less close
the next time morning rolls my way.
Maybe it is my mind forgetting
where the thin discs
of shimmering glass
that bring the light end,
and where my rods and cones
ravaged by time begin.
Maybe it is the world reminding me
to cherish the moments of sight
whilst as yet they still linger.