Villanelle in the Morning

When I break apart I really break.

I can't say what's coming, this blind day.

I walk to move, sometimes I shake.

Sometimes I laugh, sometimes half the day.

When I break apart I really break.

I don't recommend it, it's just my way.

I walk to move, sometimes I shake.

Here's to blindness, my true brother.

When I break apart I really break.

My brother takes on the coming day,

Sightless, he never looks for cover,

We laugh together, sometimes all the way.

Here's to blindness, my one brother.

Here's to laughter, never taking cover.

We walk, sometimes we shake.

When we break apart we really break.

Comments

[Leslie B.]

You bury this poem in rapid-fire posts that reflect the pace of your life and the world around you. But I cannot leave it behind! You have a brother who resided close beside you the first nine months of your life. You have another brother who will never leave your side, and you have chosen to embrace and cherish him, to laugh and to cry with him. Here is a poem that is a mirror into which we all can gaze