At Dawn

The birds in my neighborhood, who are beauty in-molded, rise and circle. Their brains are blanked, their brains are dark as minerals. I give thanks and praises there are no Bibles for vireos and phoebes. I’m blind but see light at the tips of wings—gold finches, orioles, bay-breasted warblers.�

Some say beauty will outlast ideas of good and evil.

via www.planet-of-the-blind.com