What creed, what idea is the body
tethered to beyond itself? Today
there was talk about the need to leave
a place in order to find it again—
to feel the poverty of losing
the most familiar key to oneself.
So how could you not forgive each
cavity that opens to be filled?
In the city where I grew up, the blind
walked in pairs, tapping on sidewalks
where knobs of grass pushed their way
through each crack. If you wait awhile
after you enter a darkened room, each
object slowly reveals its hidden light.
In response to an entry from the Morning Porch.