NOTHING WASTED Trial and disillusionment, the stone's silence and the bird's song, real sorrow, real gain, this world, this seat, this eye. Vision comes in how experience is recounted. Am I afraid to be happy, or to learn one simple, one happy trick? Like the blue-eyed man staring at his brown-eyed children. Or buying a used book, poems from a foreign language and time, taking it home and knowing to open it to the page where an eyelash rests on the white space below the text as on a cheek.