ACCOUNT OF MY DAYS
Sequence: 4
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.