Behold: the blind now see the river’s
banks spilling water on their shoes.

They touch the mud, rubbing it on
their naked thighs, cooling comfort.

The smoke of a man’s pipe on a park
bench nearby wafts above their heads.

It causes them to salivate with thoughts
of cedar, lemon drops and licorice.

Little boys stop in their tracks as the bell
of the ice cream truck peals by.

Playing tricks is the game of the brain
whose cells deliver dreams, laughing.


“Uncommon Senses” will appear in Trying Hard to Hear You, © 2013, Lewis Bosworth