Light Light

While one of my students in prison

reads a story written by a blind boy,

most of us listening keep our eyes closed.

The blind boy discovers a light inside that dances joyfully

except when he's afraid.

When I look inside, my light 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.