White Canes
A young boy
Leads his mother
Her long cane
And his short one
Tapping an irregular cadence
On the concrete
Like dueling conductors
Tapping separate beats
For their drummers
One sees as through a glass
Darkly
While the other, though young
Through polished glass
She clasps his tender hand
He leads her
In safety, through peril
And though grown
She sees through young eyes.
Please login or register
You must be logged in or register a new account in order to
Login or Registerleave comments/feedback and rate this poem.