by Robert Crawford
His blindness lends a magic to his fingers,
As if his seeing subtlety were sensed
In them, and his wits left his eyes to work
In the nimble digits as they read for him.
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The Blind Reader.
Poems of the Day
His blindness lends a magic to his fingers,
As if his seeing subtlety were sensed
In them, and his wits left his eyes to work
In the nimble digits as they read for him.