The gift of not seeing — it hides
beneath a gray sweater and makes
rainbow colors. It paints my eyes
a deeper shade of green. It is a
novice at all things true, and
tells with loyal honesty. It never
masks its feelings behind a sleek
charade.
The gift in glassy blue has
wide, thin strips of gentle beamings.
Its color turns orange to blue to
green, and a thousand different leanings.
The shades of the shadow produce
pure light.
