Not Panoptes

A raindrop broods on my lens
[caught earlier] – a simple wet
speck of confusion – now set
across my sight [almost a cell
as light refracts] not cleaving –
not shivered – an inert microbe
placed upon my fingered slide
for my eye-tight microscope/ I
hold off from wiping it away –
my unhoped rain-jewel [turbid]
alters my way of seeing things
as if I am Argus Panoptes with
[up to] 100 eyes – instructed by
Heras/ My glasses quickly mist
& blind me [a peacock’s fan of
eyes once petrified my first son]
& I wipe at my rain-made keeker
to see as others see – corrected