b.d.m.c.


By Roland E. Williams

 

The blind,
the deaf,
the mute,
and the crippled,
they never let go of us
nor do we of them.
They leave us silent
and silenced,
but never thoughtless.

I told my son today,
I met an Eskimo lady
just yesterday.
He was amused,
but not amazed;
but I did not mention
meeting a blind man
earlier today;

nor the deaf-mute
who crossed my path
four days ago.

Deep in our minds,

pity can be found in a corner,

holding hands with curiosity

while both are embraced

by shame.

 

 

 

 

 

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