Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Scales Fall from His Eyes
From an eclipsing sky
he tumbles down a well
thinking about the bereaved,
how they line up at ticket counters
looking for their own way out.
What would they do for the chance
to walk away from their skins? Smoke
alarms fail, insurance expires. You can lose
yourself in love and wake as a stranger’s revelation.
And because epiphany loves a well, because
it storms the half-glimpsed memory, it rises
to meet the sliver of light that burns eyes awake
while the body keeps on drowning.