SIMPLE THINGS
Such a simple scene:
an African village, chickens pecking in the
dust.
An old man, shuffling along with a stick.
A small child, clutching his mother’s
skirt,
his grandmother, slumped beside a fire.
All with one thing in common –
apart from being poor and black and of
small account –
they are all blind without glasses.
Such a simple thing, a smile –
big white teeth, big brown eyes.
It’s a wondrous sight, once a year,
when dozens and dozens queue in the sun
then grin in surprise at a sharp new world:
for the very first time, they have glasses.
Now the old man throws away his stick and
his years –
gets a job.
The old lady laughs in delight, cooks and
cleans
so her daughter can work.
And the little boy can walk to school and
read books.
Such a simple thing, glasses.
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