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I heard the splendor of fear,

but I felt nothing.

I heard the harp of the New Albion,

its detuned chorale sweeping through the hills,
while a swarm of flies gathered in the sunlight nearby,

ushering in a new day –

but I do not feel any differently now.

A black tapestry still hangs on the wall,

outside the doorway

where our first visitor came,

only to be sent away quickly,

before you were awakened.

A silken thread floating in the wind,

undulates,

snakelike,

before my eyes

and I realize that I can finally see

every color that can be reflected through air,

in prismatic waves all around me.

Perhaps I am not blind after all,

but only suspected of being so in a dream.

Unpublished Poems

May 2012