Vision

With age   
mirage
assuages
what the youthful eye  
would have studied
until identified—
chicory? bluebird? debris?  
Today no nomenclature
ruptures
the composure
of a chalk-blue haze
pausing, even dawdling,
now and then trembling
over what I'm going to call
fresh water.

Copyright © 2010 by Erica Funkhouser. Used with permission of the author.