Bblind Fisherman Poem by Barry A. Lanier

While down at the dock fishing one day
Walked up to the man, kneeling to pray
I heard him praying, for a new friend
One who could teach, him to fish again
Now I teach my blind friend, to cast
True left, right or center, how far from the grass
Between the lily pads and the fallen log
'I am seldom blind when I dream, and
morning is always bright, our bait, the worms
have no guides, they can be taught fear of
light' I cannot find myself at times, my shoes
the sink, tell time, but that is spilled milk
I can tell the difference between a liar and
friend, I can tell when I'm nearing the rope's end
Laughing, he says, 'I still hope the worm will turn'
Pink, flacid, and warm dining on good fortune
Books and woman have a faint legible smell
Divorced from the night and in my own shell
In the overcast I dream, using darkness well
Eventually he could not walk, or fish, he fell in
his own feces. He lay there weeping and died
where he fell. The power of righting all wrong
is now hard for me to sell.