A Blinding Sight

I first wake up in the morning
on a weekend day.
My curtains are closed.
And I am still half asleep.
Ten minutes later
I sit up in my bed and try
to open my eyes.
Now I am half awake.
I look down through the hall
and it is darker down there.
I get up but only enough to
open up my closed curtains.
I open them only a little,
but when the sun came
in through my room
and met my eyes.
I shut them and let go
of the curtain that was
still in my hand.
I peer out once again.
And it still is a blinding sight.

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Kesav Easwaran 27 May 2009

A good scenic write...your poem presents speaking visuals there, Jatie...thanks...10

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