September Poem 54: Life in Sharp Focus

Rearranged furniture. A blind man’s house

Watch him tap-dance through the living room. Watch

Him bang his toe on the sofa leg. Watch

Him jump to find his shin bloodied on

The coffee table’s edge. Watch him scramble

Over the rocking chair. Watch his world close

In on him. Watch him come to grips lost in

His own house. Watch his surety devolve.

Watch the man weep for his loss of routine.

Watch him bleed for disruption. Watch him dance

Like the child’s toy you wound up rocking,

Bumping, and stumbling into the wall.

Like a life lived without a plan. Like a

Splintered driftwood dashed along rocky shores.




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