Saturday, September 2, 2017

September poem of the month


They walked out of the snow
with slouched backs into the tram,
literally; the blind leading the blind,
a gentle tapping
pointing out their way,
and sat down next to each other

their backs tipping over and their canes
alongside their outstretched legs,
and as they sat finding comfort
easily by touch and sound
their distance to other passengers
was felt in a calm hunger

for knowing where they were
as if their eyelids, like the horizon
understood distance and shape
but could not be pressed further
than beyond that end
to which their probing hands

only reached for each other
not for help, but for play
as their bodies enjoyed
the movement, enjoyed
the expected juggling about
and then laughed and she

came closer to kiss
his closed eyes
knowing that darkness
does not always erase
memories and that memory
is never better than imagination.

Steven Pelcman

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