Sport 42: 2014
Hours and glasses
Hours and glasses
This sand seems rich
with glass and salt.
Pockmarks of shellfish
breathing remind me
of instant pudding
setting; I want to eat
the sand. And, would
like to wash my feet—
cocoa toes in the camp’s
dust. I am not hungry
really or uncomfortable
yet. I can still lie
on my stomach with my eyes
five centimetres from the sand
and examine pebbles calmly.
This one is the colour
of the footpath outside
my daughter’s school.
This one is shaped like
a mole’s face; this one
tattooed with fine rows of
dots like the ceiling
of the room in which I exercised.
I am lucky to have my sight.
If I couldn’t see the stones
I mightn’t remember my home.
Others have had hearing aids
and reading glasses taken away.