BLIND

Coming home from an appointment
and feeling a bit lost
about how to manage the rest of my day,
I ran into a blind acquaintance
on the subway.
He told me he was returning from New Jersey.
Alone.
Yet he travels without a dog.
Just a little white stick
that folds up on itself when he's sitting.
I ended up riding with him to his stop,
a complex express station,
and followed him in amazement
as he led me down and up
various staircases and corridors
until we reached the street,
using his extended white stick artfully
at critical moments.
He did not take my arm
as I walked alongside.
Only when we reached the curb
did he need any guidance,
and even this he accomplished deftly —
not with a gesture of dependency,
but putting his arm around my shoulder
as if protecting me.
We said our goodbyes
and he turned confidently towards his home,
leaving me to wander.


© Ellen Azorin