by Glen Martin Fitch
A blind man told me
what he thought of sight.
“As if you open up a Russian doll
and place each front to back.
If you have light,
the near one's big.
The farthest one is small."
We learn from decibels,
from rods and cones,
from sour, sweet and
rough and smooth.
Begin from heat and cold,
from pheromones
to recreate the outer world
within.
So YOU know ME.
You've got a lot of nerve.
You THINK you know me.
You don't have a clue.
It's clear
you never listen or observe.
The me inside you
isn't me, it's YOU.
I hope some day you'll see
why I won't stay.
Watch me get smaller
as I walk away.
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ABOUT THE POET ~
Glen Fitch is a 16th Century poet lost in the 21st Century. Born near Niagara Falls, educated in the Catskills, thirty years on the Monterey Bay he now lives in Palm Springs. Retail not academics has paid the bills. Someday he will finish Spenser's "The Fairie Queene."
Last updated August 23, 2011