HE SEES
His eyes are light and grey-ish now
He opens them every now and then
If he likes what he hears
He opens them wide
Tears well, but they never fall
Sometimes I think he’s looking at me
Sometimes it seems he’s looking past me
There are others in the room
I can’t see them, but he points
He fixes his eyes on them
And then he looks up
His gaze is intense
Who, or whatever he sees captures his attention
His breathing is labored as he sleeps
And his sleep is deep and peaceful
His dreams are lucid
He wakes from them abruptly
Then slowly closes his eyelids again
If I let go of his hand, he opens his eyes
If I leave his line of vision, he scans the room
I wave and say, "I'm right here"
I thought he couldn’t see
I was wrong
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