Ceguera causada por la nieve

This poem
drifts perilously
across my tracks

and hangs in the crackling air
like words too light to settle
and too heavy to fly.

Is there a contradiction
in bitter cold
and blinding light?

Is this blindness
complete and irreversible,
or is it just a stumbling

in low light with pupils
the opposite of dilated,
which would be – what —

contracted, standoffish, shy?
Or just light-averse,
a mood?

The sunlight reflects
into space, love that cannot
be gathered and absorbed.

This poem does not know
how to say snowblindness
in Spanish.

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About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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