A poem by DeafBlind poet John Lee Clark and a poem-video by Raymond Luczak today.
Braille (a poem)
by John Lee Clark
The world rests on my lap.
If my finger is the sky,
Then under it the fields prosper.
Row after perfect row of buds
Bid me gather all I can.
The harvest is food for thought.
The Poetry Friday round-up is hosted at The Logonauts.