—“I do not know which of us has written this page.”

—Jorge Luis Borges, “Borges and I”

 

Hands that rock the cradle

Or sweep a white cane

Know who’s writing—

Words appear and startle

In the air above

Sleeping children

& a blind woman

Parts vast lexicons

As she makes her way

Down broadway

Tap tapping.

 

In his blindness

Borges

Was never alone.

So he didn’t

Rehearse

His fate

Reaching

Or walking—

Friends

Told him

What to see.

I say

In the sloping dark

The blind move fast

Their own words

On their tongues.