On the Train, Haiku-esque
For the blind woman
on the train every
journey is inner.
She touches my shoulder,
moves just
one seat ahead,
feels her winter coat,
metal ring pinned
to its shoulder.
Smiles when she touches
it, dark rings of her eyes
light up momentarily.
What universes are in the heads all around me.
poem by Warren Falcon
Added by Poetry Lover
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