A Poem For Friday


“The Wish for Eyes” by Annie Finch:

On solid hills through liquid dusk,
the city turns to rise

with its purple touch, to enter me.
I touch it with my eyes.

Righted with wrongs, or even hard,
Let me be made of eyes.

Gray nature, make a dusk of me,
and let me keep my ties.

(From Spells: New and Selected Poems © 2013 by Annie Finch. Reprinted with permission from Wesleyan University Press. Photo by Flickr user Ross2085)