I, too, have seen the darkest dark, shining
Iridescent like a raven’s feather
In the sun. I have felt the untwining

Of my mind, stormwracked by psychic weather,
And I have tried to laugh it all away
Faking that I’m keeping it together.

So often the ones we thought were OK
The ones who helped us laugh and sing and drink . . .
So often the one thing they needed to say

Never got said or got said with a wink.
Listen closely. Watch closely. It is there:
A welling tear can be erased with a blink.

I blink, you blink, we all blink; what’s more rare
Is the unblinking gaze on both foul and fair.