In The Wind River Cave
Some animals, as we do, see best by day.
Others like the cat, the owl and sightless bat
see best by night when the sun, giver of all life,
hides behind a rock and calls the all-but-blind
by day to come out and behold the unlit earth.
Once far below ground in the Wind River Cave,
the tour guide turned out the lights and said
you’ve never seen black as black as this before.
She was right, no human eye can see in such
black. But when I thought I was dying I pulled
the blankets over my head and shivering
in the grip of shock, I shut my eyes and amazing
grace . . . could see.
I feel I am getting better, but I am reluctant to tempt faith and say for sure. If I am stubbing my toes on poetry again, I must be getting better. This is a companion piece to The Rain Watcher story. Both are almost screwy as literary works, but as a writer there is a fidelity to my personal experience and that counts for something I think.
The Wind River Cave is near Mount Rushmore.