Depression falls around me.
A streaming cascade of gray droplets clouding my eyes.
How will the mist rise
up
from the valley of hardship
and wisdom?
Clouds hide behind white orbs
and green crysalides.
My eyes
wait
for wings of spirit
to fly
with clear sight
of heaven and earth.
Cataracts,
Surgery,
the Doctor says.
Thick black glasses
perching
on his white hawk nose.
Thin black pen
opinionating
on the white chart paper.
Slim black hand
ticking
on the white clock.