My Father's Eyes
It's easy to describe my father's eyes
And that's because of late
I am my father's eyes
Advancing years have diminished his sight
He can still see outlines and shapes
But when he needs to see detail
I am my father's eyes
I read directions and recipes to him
When he cooks
And learn that burgundy greatly improves
The flavor of beef stroganoff
I read coin and stamp catalogues to him
And learn that coins from the Holy Land
Last thousands of years
Because of the arid climate there
I take him to the doctor
His nurse practitioner appears to be of Thai extraction
Her hair is as black
As the night of a tryst with an unforgotten lover
Her eyes are as brown
As the sweetest chocolate I've ever tasted
And I take joy in her beauty
And I take joy in the attention and loving care she gives my father
But I feel sad and inadaquate
That I can't send the delicious signals to his brain
That I would send
If I were the eyes he was born with
Someday I will be very old
And statistics and genetics tell me
That my eyesight will not be good
But I'll take joy in memories stored up
Of things I saw
When I was my father's eyes