Seeing The Truth


Blindly
For an hour-and-a-half
I tried to embrace darkness
my eyes still straining to see
unable to surrender to pitch-black
Fumbling blindly
to find my spoon and glass
my breath trapped in my chest
a nameless fear striving for release

When the food arrived
it was warm – a shiver ran down
my spine – how to get it from plate
to mouth? The knife sliced
through the chicken chop,
the fork couldn’t find it
My fingers made better tools
I ate, grateful for the black cloak
draped around us

Ninety minutes I spent
in the world of the blind
I’ll never look at them
the same way again

© 2017 Uma Venkatraman ~ All Rights Reserved

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