I walked around the barn without words—
no nouns or memories
a long clean glimmering silence in mind
as I circled horses.
When I was a child I wrote my name with a finger
on icy glass, saw how the letters
were evanescent—
innocence in training
for eternity, but truly
today I was for twenty minutes
moving in the shadows of late summer
without guilt or whisper.
Planet of the Blind 