Two Derelicts

11 Oct

by Mani G. Iyer

 
She perches by the window, looking
for any sign of life, her ears upright;
She should know better, she likes to wager.
Tired of her morning vigil, she reaches for
sunny spots on rugs, cool areas on bare floors, 
the seasons dictating her places of repose.
Now and then, she demands to be let out,
more often in good weather, she knows better.
She would have loved to play with him,
but for her dread of his unsighted feet.
 
He putters around the house,
leashed to his splintered mind;
perhaps, mourning for things he lost,
recompensing for things he is about to lose,
grappling with his silicon hearted friend
trying to piece together the broken
white symbols speckled on a black face,
syllables rendered  in a sugary voice.
He would like to talk to his dog, caress her
if only, she told him where she was.
 
The evening is a different matter, when
a brilliant light enters their orbits.
It is greeted with great fanfare,
she, jumping away her indolence,
he, chattering away his silence.
The light is actually fading away,
needing its own quiet space, yet
the happy moths refuse to abandon it,
until a derelict night overwhelms them,
the derelict day in tandem.
 

 Mani G. Iyer was born and raised in Bombay, India and has lived in the United States since 1985.  He is deaf-blind due to Usher Syndrome.  He became deaf by the age of 4, night-blind by the age of 12, and now has very little usable vision.  Writing has always been a passion for Mani and he has just completed a writing fellowship at the Vermont Studio Center.  He has also just started a writing group called “The Good Word.”

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