For a moment, fastened at the bus window,
I consider what living without windows would be like.
On the other side suddenly there is an infinity,
the street is paved with star-stone, dust matters are astral
and I am wondering where on earth in the universe I am.
He told me that a moment lasts ninety seconds
but it was gone and the grey came again
before I could count, before a blink or a beat
of heart or of hands, so I don't think
I can say I have really looked
for what I would miss, the sights I missed out on,
that were treasured by my sore eyes,
or that I've really given being blind
a moment's thought.