For a moment, fastened at the bus window,
I consider what living without windows would be like.
On the other side suddenly there is an infinity,
the street is paved with star-stone, dust matters are astral
and I am wondering where on earth in the universe I am.
He told me that a moment asts ninety seconds
but it was gone and the grey came again
before I could count, before a blink or a beat
of heart or of hands, so I don't think
I can say I have really looked for what I would miss,
the sights most treasured by my sore eyes,
or really given blindness a moment's thought.
