Blinding Light

by David Ackley

Snow sheet on the river

in the dilate white light from


the VA eye clinic,  where we

were propped among

all manner of aftermath.

the bent WWII Vet

steadied by a daughter

the old woman wheeling

her basketed little dog

such stinging kindness here

more cognisant now of infirmity

the mirrored limp and halt of others

they of mine the shoes now hard to tie

such now the small decisions like velcro straps

which come to resemble defeat

In the restaurant, I apologize to the waitress for my shades;

with them off, the river blazes like revelation