Clarion

        My fair face
        hasn't the power
        to survive this blare of sun
        and I blush-
        
        burnt with defeat.

        My pale eyes
        haven't the strength...
        I can only squint
        in the bright light:
        
        I can't see colors as they should be,
        
        just recollections
        of what lines usually lead to
        and shapes should divulge.

poem copyright ©2000 Anne Selden Annab