Seeing



I saw two men on the wooded path yesterday.

The first poked his sensitive white cane in front while the other followed a touch behind, his dim vision still able to mark the green margins of the trail.

As they walked, they turned their heads this way and that, as if to sample the smallest nuances of the forest's aroma and to listen to the slightest whisper of the soft wind in the trees.

A robin sprang from the trail's edge, shrieking its alarm to all that would listen.

Their ears followed the screeching bit of life crossing in front of them and they smiled at their discovery.

They passed me and I too tested the smells and the sounds of this woodland and pondered on the blind who see and the sighted who do not.

Garry M. DeLong
Forest Park
May, 1984