Rising Water, Falling Sky (detail)
And the blind whisper to each other
in thin voices. They ask me to describe darkness.
I begin with the charred edge of the sea
winds trapped in caves, a wheel turning
away from itself. I have gone into
the hollow place behind my eyes, the outer
edge of sight moving on white lizard feet.
No longer blinded by the visible,
the world is nearer in the dark.