Glasses (July)

They get in the way, not reading. I notice them obstruct my view, redundant window frames. So wear them little as possible. Put them down wherever I find myself. Which is why they go missing. All the time. What’s the secret ingredient? The fine print needs magnifying. I can’t read what’s happening in July. Where are they? Walk. Have a way of moving around. Sneaky. Not on the opened book. Not on the silver tray, s’il vous plaît. Glove box. Search ends at window frames: lovely wordless colours. Show up when least looking. In the pocket of the other coat.