Optics (an acrostic poem)

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Over the years, she realized her vision was deteriorating

Putting reading into the group of activities that were getting hard to do

That was a huge penalty to getting older

It made her mad at the universe for allowing this to happen, but to no avail

Collapsing her into a deep depression that echoed her depleting eyesight.

So it surprised everyone around her when she would not put on her damn glasses

Blur (an acrostic poem)

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Blinking, trying to bring it into focus, but fails

Leaving the image muddy and obscured

Unable to clarify what was happening, she put on her glasses

Realizing that being old was the only thing she could see clearly in the morning

Raise (an acrostic poem)

 

Remembering all that has been lost

As well as all that we have gained

It is times like these that balance looking forward and back

Seeing this particular snapshot in each of our lives

Entices us to lift our glasses in a toast.  Here’s to you, my reader.

 

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