Skyline borders outline my horizon
They puncture the sun so that the light is distorted
My eyes grew acclimated to blindness.
I was always able to see.
But one time I went down to Chesapeake.
To see my cousins. They're eyes seemed lighter
as if the sunlight kissed their irises.
And while they walked the beachfront, I ambled
Unsure of where the ground laid before me.
I wondered if perhaps I was blind.
But then when I turned west, I saw the mountainside
pierce the sun so that the light is distorted.
I like to think West Virginia has no skyscrapers
because nature already provided them their skyline border.
When I returned to my skyline border, my eyes panicked
only for a second, until artificial light saved it from blindness.
I was snug in my steely cage, waiting for a distorted sun to set.
Finally, I can see.
No comments:
Post a Comment