"Removal" and "Orbituary"
I am unfettered
Glass and wire left behind
I am the sightless
I denounce frames and lenses
Like false gods
I am a disciple
fear replaced by loss understood
I am the naked prophet
after prolonged oppression
I am baptized by blindness
dipped into the water
The glasses wash away
Swept aside in the river’s current
Like a prophet, I convert
Yet I rise -- a Lazarus
If my eyes weren’t taken
would I still be the same?
Old ways are replaced, like the beasts
Sent to slaughter after the invention of combustion engines
The beloved written word, the character patterns that enthralled
Printing press and paperback are inaccessible, though
The desire to hold and smell books
Put the paper close to an ear and thumb the thickness
Delight in the nose-tingling swish of air, pulpy and acrid
Remains, akin to a craving.
The act itself
The devouring of pages
is lost to macular degeneration
physical contact thwarted by
Blurred vision, sensory affliction
The death of an eye
Ann writes because she is compelled to do so in order to remain a somewhat balanced human being. Her poetry has appeared in small press publications including “Lucidity and Midwest Poetry Review”. Ann’s non-fiction articles have appeared in “Dialogue Magazine” and “The Matilda Ziegler Weekly E-zine”, among others. She lives in New York with her husband, two teenagers, and a bunch of furry and feathery critters, including her black Labrador guide dog, Verona, and a bitzer doggie named Neeka. Read her blog at: .