While one of my
students in prison
reads a story
written by a blind boy,
most of us
listening keep our eyes closed.
The boy
discovers a light inside that feels joyful
except
when he's afraid.
When I look
for my light within
it feels harsh.
After class is
over my student says,
“You fell asleep while I was reading.”
While I protest,
“No way,”
light in her eyes
plays with mine.
No comments:
Post a Comment