The Book - a Prose Poem for dVerse MTB

My Book 

It's a book of must reads, a book that I must read.  There must be a reason to make the 'must', tell us more of that work of written art.  My book, borrowed from the local library shelves, "The Country of the Blind; a Memoir at the End of Sight", by Andrew Leland. 

Every man in my masculine line of ancestry that I have learned, has gone blind, blind of Macular Degeneration. That has come about age ninety, maybe eighty-nine.  Not a woman there, I've been told.  

So as I approach that yellowed age I must have something to prepare me.  What could be better than this book of a blind, blind man writing his memoirs?

I may skip around, there seems to be no end but an interesting beginning. In the beginning. Chapter One is titled “Seeing Stars”. I love to see the stars at night, shining in the heavens so bright. Lay on my back some night, I'm prepared for a sight. Shooting stars are my best, I'll do more of this until I cannot see the stars, blind to them and to most all.

Chapter Four might interest me, “The Male Gaze”. Interesting perhaps, I'll give it a test. Number Six is misnamed I feel sure, “The Library of Babel”. Don't go there, there weren't books back then, let alone a library of them. Chapter ten is the end, end of my book; it is titled “Half Smiling”. Do you think I will smile when I just have gone blind; I can't think of one thing to smile about on that sad day. How about you?

I may read between some lines, I could do that when I go blind. 'Do that my foot?' But perhaps by then I'll be ready for when, when my time comes to see nothing more.

I've a last little worry. I lose canes a plenty, that is now, when I can see. But when I cannot how will I ever find even one, lost cane.

    The End 

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  - Prose Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

  - I am linked with Laura Bloomsbury at dVerse MTB, 

    https://dversepoets.com/2023/09/07/mtb-book-a-prose-poem/ 

  - Laura wants us to write a Prose Poetry effort about a Book that we have or will have read last.

 - To read others writing work, Click Here

Theft Story -- a Poem for Friday Writings and dVerse Quadrille

  Three Silver Dollars

I wish that I could have

My silver dollars back

Never guess where they are

You don't know, I don't know

Wasn't there when they came

Small bath window, slivers 

TV, stereo, junk

Violated my soul

Miss my silver dollars

Surprisingly the most 

Excruciatingly 

Note:  This true, I blame a couple who were selling door to door the night before.  And the first thing that comes to mind when I think of the burglary is my Silver Dollars.  Three I remember, two from Mom's coin stash, i.e., collection, and one given to me--I was an early teen then--by my Uncle Don who had just been to Reno for his first time.

   _ _ _ 

  - Poem Copyright, Jimmiehov 2023, All Rights Reserved 

  - I am linked with Rommy at Friday Writings #93 at   

    Poets and Storytellers United: Friday Writings #93: Scent of a Poem

  - I have opted to not follow Rommy's fine prompt, of inserting "a sense of "smell" somewhere in the poem.  I could, say, "smell of rats"when visiters came to my door.  BUT this would be hard and still end up with exactly 44 words as the form requires.  

  - I am also linked with kim881 for dVerse Quadrille #183 at 

    https://dversepoets.com/2023/09/04/quadrille-183-a-sliver-of-a-poem/  

 - Click here to read other's writings for Kim's prompt word, "Sliver"

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