Sighted or Blind

Sighted or blind,
we dream of the same world.
Maybe not lightning
or rainbows, or sunsets,
but surely the booming thunder,
the smell of rain drops on a dusty road,
a hot pool of sun on the breakfast table.
Not the green curl of an ocean wave,
but the creamy hollow of a seashell.
Not a dog running on the beach,
but the joy in its bark.
Not a beautiful face,
but the lip’s tender journey
across it: temple, cheek, mouth,
skin not observed but explored, by inches,
in the stasis of an afternoon.

They have nightmares too, the blind,
more often than the rest of us,
scenes of falling, of losing their way,
of guide dogs gone missing.
They wake with a start
and hurdle into another darkness,
but this one with sheets,
a bedside table,
the jingle of dog tags
coming to the rescue.

Published by

Jean Ryan

Jean Ryan, a native Vermonter, lives in Napa, California. Her stories and essays have appeared in a variety of journals and anthologies. She has also published a novel, LOST SISTER. Her short story collections, SURVIVAL SKILLS and LOVERS AND LONERS, are available online. STRANGE COMPANY, a collection of short nature essays, is available in paperback as well as digital and audio editions.

6 thoughts on “Sighted or Blind

  1. Ah, petrichor! What a beautiful poem to start the day. Thank you! What inspired this poem, Jean?
    Yours in nyc, John

    1. John, leave it to you to know what petrichor means. 😊 No inspiration for this poem other than a longtime fascination with the dreamworld and how dreams might differ based on experience. Still astonishes me that our sleeping minds can create sensations without stimulation.

  2. ….the jingle of dog tags coming to the rescue
    but the joy in its bark
    sighted or blind …..
    Thank you Jean!

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