I am like
the birds that fly
into windows
I mistake them
for doors that will open

I refuse to fall asleep
no matter what they give me
in the operating room
the nurse with the magic marker asks,
"Which eye are we doing today?"

confusion
about where to go
after the tornado sirens
our entire class ends up
in the men's restroom

a new lesson posted
in Spanish
ella es ciega
no glasses strong enough
to lift the fog from my eyes

threads of rain
ending a long drought
now that I've finished
crossing the bones
of the "pan de muertos"

a tree knocking
down a powerline
an indoor hike
with a flashlight to find
our way around the house

with the best viewing times
before dawn
once again I will be
sleeping through
the orionids

reminding me of two cats
wandering along the beach
a brother and sister
take care not to get
too close to the river

at the edge of a cliff
I view the rock face
with the mind
                    of an agile dancer
and the body
                    of a creaking floorboard

in
the shade
of a circus tent
game show hosts
cut out of cardboard
looking just like they do
on tv