by Nancy Scott
I practice impatience, balance it with my book on the porch rail where I try to read Braille with February coat sleeves, thinking the sun must be the color of the good poems I can only write in April when the ice melts and my hair curls with things to do. I dare to wear no gloves, read one-handed; too slow to lure robins.
Nancy Scott, Easton, PA, is a blind essayist and poet. Her over-500 bylines have appeared in magazines, literary journals, anthologies and newspapers, and as audio commentaries. Her third chapbook, co-authored with artist Maryann Riker, is entitled “The Nature of Beyond.
Loved this poem, especially the last line. Thanks.
I really like this, Nancy!