ALICE AT SEVENTEEN: LIKE A BLIND CHILD

by Darcy Cummings

One

Summer

Afternoon,

I learnedmy body,

like a blind child

leaving a walledSchool for the

first time,

stumblingfrom cool

hallways to a world

dense withscent and sound,

pinesroaring

in thesudden

wind

like a HUGE

chorus

of insects.

I felt a

dampsocket of

flowers,

touchedWEEDS

ridingthe crest

of a stony ridge,

and the scrubby

groundcovered the

hills.

haystacks

burn,

began to

smoke roselike sheets of

translucent mica.

The thick air hummed

over theSTRETCHED

wires

of wheat as I

layin the overgrown

FIELDListening

to the shrieks

of smallRABBITS

bounding

my skin.

beneath