Tap, Tap

I walk with a guide dog for the blind most of the time. Some days I travel without him. I tap the pavement with a long white stick.

Once, in Dublin, Ireland, I worked my way through the long airport and swept my cane before me and a woman grabbed me by the arm without warning.

"Where do you want to go?" she asked. She was wearing serious perfume.

"I want to go to Paris," I said.

"Oh," she said, "that’s where I am going!"

"Ah," I said, "but I don’t want to go to Paris today."

"Why not?" she asked. She was still clutching my arm.

"Because Paris is the city for restlessness," I said, "and I am not restless."

We were standing in a crowded Irish airport and for a moment we were perfectly still.

"Today," I said, "I am headed for the sea where I will become actual, sharing the form of motion."

She let me go and walked away, lost in her own body of thought.

s.K.

Author: stevekuusisto

Poet, Essayist, Blogger, Journalist, Memoirist, Disability Rights Advocate, Public Speaker, Professor, Syracuse University View all posts by stevekuusisto