{"id":1335,"date":"2025-04-28T18:12:58","date_gmt":"2025-04-28T22:12:58","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=1335"},"modified":"2025-04-28T18:12:58","modified_gmt":"2025-04-28T22:12:58","slug":"rough-drafts-5-6-7","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=1335","title":{"rendered":"Rough Drafts 5, 6, 7"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Sometimes a poet has to step back from the experience, step back from the poem, but I always step into it, into the immediacy of it. And then it may sit idly for months or years before I discover what I have written.<\/p>\n<p>These poems follow the Sjogren&#8217;s poem which also lingered in my computer for months. They are rough, but they nudged me to share them, to save them someplace where I might revise them in the future.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Cataract Surgery<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>The left eye is first and sees the future.<br \/>\nIs it real how near to me the world is<br \/>\nor is it a hoax? Perhaps, the future<br \/>\nis past and the present is the future.<br \/>\nAnd what is the truth as walls and<br \/>\ndoors slam into me and I see every<br \/>\nspeck of possibility lay dormant; the<br \/>\nfloor a mass of coffee grounds and<br \/>\nants.<\/p>\n<p>While the right eye waits to catch<br \/>\nup, and it does, suddenly there<br \/>\nis no close-up view, no letters or<br \/>\ndotted I\u2019s to tell me the trut, to<br \/>\ngive witness to the here and now.<br \/>\nHow odd that readers cheat me<br \/>\ninto believing I can see what is<br \/>\nsmall and beyond my reach.<\/p>\n<p>Eye drops 4-3-2-1 per day per<br \/>\nweek ensure my sight is sterile,<br \/>\nthat there are no cracks in my vision,<br \/>\nno infection, no false promises.<\/p>\n<p>As I continue to see with limited<br \/>\nvision I don\u2019t know what\u2019s next,<\/p>\n<p>so I buy a magnifying glass.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Cataract Post Surgery Day Seven<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>In this morning haze my fog lifts<br \/>\nAnd I gaze another sun lit moment<br \/>\nThrough burning eyes<\/p>\n<p>Weather agreeing or not with my<br \/>\nDisposition I drop prednisolone<br \/>\nInto  right eye, feel the burn<\/p>\n<p>It matters less whether I can see<br \/>\nThe day ahead of me most are<br \/>\nThe same<\/p>\n<p>Eat drink walk grumble move<br \/>\nAs if you really don\u2019t want to<br \/>\nDance<\/p>\n<p>As if one day is really enough<br \/>\nAnd laughter isn\u2019t someone<br \/>\nElse\u2019s<\/p>\n<p>Joy. Breakfast is decaf coffee<br \/>\nAnd granola, where did I hide<br \/>\nThe cinnamon roll<\/p>\n<p>Pleasure is imagination and<br \/>\nYesterday\u2019s trauma, both move<br \/>\nForward and past<\/p>\n<p>Both arrived here in the age<br \/>\nConsidered old, arrived un-<br \/>\nAttached<\/p>\n<p>And wholesome.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Cataract Surgery:  Bi-Focals<\/strong><\/p>\n<p>I saw my face for the first time since<br \/>\nSeventh grade the year I wore the mask<br \/>\nOf powder and rouge and eye liner and<br \/>\nMascara.  The dark lines around my almond<br \/>\nEyes my signature deception<\/p>\n<p>How exotic Mother wanted me to be<br \/>\nMaybe I was, maybe I liked playing the<br \/>\nClown princess, Lolita, the gaze sad<br \/>\nAnd inviting<\/p>\n<p>And now my vision is clear facial hair<br \/>\nAnd age spots, a large nose, wrinkles<br \/>\nNo metaphor it is what it is and perhaps<\/p>\n<p>It is who I really am who I always was<\/p>\n<p>I see the girl in the distance, I see the<br \/>\nWoman in the mirror.  Wisdom grew<br \/>\nIn the path between false images and<br \/>\nThe truth is<\/p>\n<p>It takes a lifetime to see clearly<br \/>\nAnd it takes the removal of the<br \/>\nCataract and the placement<br \/>\nOf a new lens.<\/p>\n<p><strong>Cataract Surgery:  Bifocals<\/strong> (revised)<\/p>\n<p>I saw my face for the first time<br \/>\nsince seventh grade, the year I wore<br \/>\nthe mask.<br \/>\nPowder and rouge, eye liner and<br \/>\nmascara.  Dark lines around my<br \/>\neyes my signature deception;<\/p>\n<p>how exotic Mother wanted me to be.<br \/>\nMaybe I was, maybe I liked playing<br \/>\nthe clown princess, Lolita, the gaze sad<br \/>\nand inviting.<\/p>\n<p>Now my vision is clear, facial hair<br \/>\nand age spots, a large nose, large ears<br \/>\nand wrinkles (it is what it is and, perhaps<\/p>\n<p>it is who I really am, or who I always was<br \/>\nthe adult now needing to be the child).<\/p>\n<p>I see the girl in the distance, I see the<br \/>\nwoman in the mirror.  Wisdom grew<br \/>\nin the path between false images and<br \/>\nthe truth is:<\/p>\n<p>It takes a lifetime to see clearly&#8211;<br \/>\nit takes the removal of the<br \/>\ncataract and the placement<br \/>\nof a new lens.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Sometimes a poet has to step back from the experience, step back from the poem, but I always step into it, into the immediacy of it. And then it may sit idly for months or years before I discover what I have written. These poems follow the Sjogren&#8217;s poem which &#8230;<\/p>\n<p> <a class=\"continue-reading-link\" href=\"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/?p=1335\"><span>Continue reading<\/span><i class=\"crycon-right-dir\"><\/i><\/a> <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[229],"tags":[233,19,230],"class_list":["post-1335","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-rough-drafts","tag-cataract-surgery","tag-poetry","tag-rough-drafts"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1335","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=1335"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1335\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1336,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1335\/revisions\/1336"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=1335"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=1335"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/blog.sherryquanlee.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=1335"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}