Dragonfly and the Blind Man

The delicacy of hunting dogs
Deceits of yellow birds
Species of wait
Wings or scents
Beside a river…
The meager red clay
Told me you were coming.
Neither one of us
Knew the answers
But your light carriage
Traveled to my hand.
Where are we going?
Out of nothingness you came
Though I was alone in the summer sun.

Author: skuusisto

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