the only parts of the body the same
size at birth as they’ll always be.
‘That’s why all babies are beautiful,’
Thurber used to say as he grew
blind — not dark, he’d go on
to explain, but floating in a pale
light always, a kind of candlelit
murk from a sourceless light.
He needed dark to see:
for a while he drew on black
paper with white pastel chalk
but it grew worse. Light bored
into his eyes but where did it go?
Into a sea of phosphenes,
along the wet fuse of some dead
nerve, it hid everywhere and couldn’t
be found. I’ve used up
three guesses, all of them
right. It’s like scuba diving, going down
into the black cone-tip that dives
farther than I can, though I dive
closer all the time.
(William Matthews)
More Poetry from William Matthews:
William Matthews Poems based on Topics: Light, Time, Beauty, Body, Birth, Babies- A Happy Childhood (William Matthews Poems)
- A Walk (William Matthews Poems)
- A Small Room In Aspen (William Matthews Poems)
- Foul Shots: A Clinic (William Matthews Poems)
- A Roadside Near Ithaca (William Matthews Poems)
- A Life Of Crime (William Matthews Poems)
Readers Who Like This Poem Also Like:
Based on Topics: Light Poems, Time Poems, Beauty Poems, Body Poems, Birth Poems, Babies PoemsBased on Keywords: candlelit, sourceless, thurber, scuba