Where color is spare
we are given shape
and shade. Angles matter,
the up-thrust of a rock,
the way horizons
map the earth even in the dark.

Early, in the stillness before birds,
we feel our way, knowing
the slick of floor tiles in
the bathroom, the jut of corner,
the slant of closet door,
its handle like a friend’s firm grip.

The reach for the railing
for confidence down the stairs.
The button to push to wake
the coffee maker.

The light switches that we
decide to not use. Yet.
Allowing the lovely mystery
of impression.