Light Runes
What She Sees
Unceremoniously deposited along the paths to stand still amongst the grasses shaking in the breeze and the branches shucking off the last tattered brown remnants of their summer leaves, the old blind woman stands facing straight ahead. Her cane stops grazing the edges of the concrete, trails down into the grass, and finds a soft patch of earth to sit in while she stands as still as a statue. I can imagine her being considered a burden on some family outing. Someone who’s been holding her arm all day is probably happy for the break. Grandchildren were no doubt nearby, running all over the park in pursuit of the last butterflies of summer. Meanwhile the old woman stands in the confluence where several gently twisting paths meet, staring through eyes that must have only gone dark in recent years. I get the feeling that somehow, even across the gulf of darkness, that her gaze is meeting mine.
Unceremoniously deposited along the paths to stand still amongst the grasses shaking in the breeze and the branches shucking off the last tattered brown remnants of their summer leaves, the old blind woman stands facing straight ahead. Her cane stops grazing the edges of the concrete, trails down into the grass, and finds a soft patch of earth to sit in while she stands as still as a statue. I can imagine her being considered a burden on some family outing. Someone who’s been holding her arm all day is probably happy for the break. Grandchildren were no doubt nearby, running all over the park in pursuit of the last butterflies of summer. Meanwhile the old woman stands in the confluence where several gently twisting paths meet, staring through eyes that must have only gone dark in recent years. I get the feeling that somehow, even across the gulf of darkness, that her gaze is meeting mine.
