Cataracts

by Judith Grey

how to see through the caul
that clings like a second skin
obscuring the haphazard arrival
the easy breath inheritance
of loaded dice and gilded cards

how to see through a full belly
to hunger
on a path so soft
nakedness is not bruised

how to break into another
unraveling accident
of time and place where worn grooves
of never enough freeze the compass
where every turn adds to loss

how to see through routine
to the seed of your own end
buried body deep

how to remove the hood
you do not know you are wearing
as you drift on history
blindfolded by luck

at the edge of the riprap slope.