Blind

Lifeless itches,gazing out loud.

Why God

us,black.

Like black was my disability,

like my limitation.

Arrayed with watering blue beauty

saturated with sulfur and determination.

Open my eyes that I might see.

Open my eyes that I might let some stuff go.

Put money in my cup,

sitting ,

rocking the wall.

Blocked by a sighted limitation

denied smells of musty desperation .

Its was not blindness but a loss of vision.

Not blindness but a loss of  direction,

Not blindness but “shiftlessness”

God why us

black,

Faulty lines had me believe

I was blind.

Poet Krissy Mosley