First Sight

    by Alarie Tennille

I didn’t know I couldn’t see

till Mama told me.  In our softly

scribbled garden, I knew

the murmur of violets

and orange shout of daylilies. 

I had leaned in close to sniff

their shapes.  My hands told me

“brontosaurus” or “horse” when

I reached into the toy box. 

And I ran headlong like

the other kids, not knowing

the secrets they knew.  Fearless,

certain hard falls would lead

to soft laps.   So I couldn’t

understand what glasses

would do until I saw my first

words jump onto a page.

© 2010 Alarie Tennille

Alarie Tennille serves on the Board of Directors of The Writers Place in Kansas City, Missouri. Her poems have appeared in numerous journals including Margie, Poetry East, ByLine Magazine, English Journal, Coal City Review, and The Mid-America Poetry Review.

© 2010 Daniel Milbo

© 2010 O.P.W. Fredericks

Violet/Orange Composite