Most of us
listening keep our eyes closed
while one of my
students in prison
is reading a
story written by a boy who goes blind.
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.
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