A Rainy Morning

Credit: Dr. Elizabeth McClung @ Screw Bronze!

A young woman in a wheelchair,
wearing a black nylon poncho spattered with rain,
is pushing herself through the morning.
You have seen how pianists
sometimes bend forward to strike the keys,
then lift their hands, draw back to rest,
then lean again to strike just as the chord fades.
Such is the way this woman
strikes at the wheels, then lifts her long white fingers,
letting them float, then bends again to strike
just as the chair slows, as if into a silence.
So expertly she plays the chords
of this difficult music she has mastered,
her wet face beautiful in its concentration,
while the wind turns the pages of rain.

~ Ted Kooser

A Blind Woman

Photo credit: Mary Witter

She had turned her face up into

a rain of light, and came on smiling.

The light trickled down her forehead

and into her eyes. It ran down

into the neck of her sweatshirt

and wet the white tops of her breasts.

Her brown shoes splashed on

into the light. The moment was like

a circus wagon rolling before her

through puddles of light, a cage on wheels,

and she walked fast behind it,

exuberant, curious, pushing her cane

through the bars, poking and prodding,

while the world cowered back in a corner.

~ Ted Kooser

___________________________________________

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision. 

~ Helen Keller

A Blind Woman

Photo credit: Mary Witter

She had turned her face up into

a rain of light, and came on smiling.

The light trickled down her forehead

and into her eyes. It ran down

into the neck of her sweatshirt

and wet the white tops of her breasts.

Her brown shoes splashed on

into the light. The moment was like

a circus wagon rolling before her

through puddles of light, a cage on wheels,

and she walked fast behind it,

exuberant, curious, pushing her cane

through the bars, poking and prodding,

while the world cowered back in a corner.

~ Ted Kooser

___________________________________________

The only thing worse than being blind is having sight but no vision. 

~ Helen Keller

A Birthday Poem

Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing,
feasting on every green moment
till darkness calls,
and with the others
I walk away into the night,
swinging the little tin bell
of my name.

- by Ted Kooser

A Birthday Poem

Just past dawn, the sun stands
with its heavy red head
in a black stanchion of trees,
waiting for someone to come
with his bucket
for the foamy white light,
and then a long day in the pasture.
I too spend my days grazing,
feasting on every green moment
till darkness calls,
and with the others
I walk away into the night,
swinging the little tin bell
of my name.

- by Ted Kooser