Madeline Artenberg | The Blind Man and Poet

The Blind Man and Poet

He’d never seen a woman.
Sight is one color in her palette.
The way she says his name
sounds like seersucker,
terry cloth, old blues.

They question what is green,
verde, vert.
“It’s cucumber,” she says.
“Envy’s green,” he says.

He removes her fine silk blouse.
She closes her eyes.
When he slides fingers down
her silky arm, each inch
announces itself. He traces
the rest of her outline, hangs it
on his mind.

Their breathing’s bumpy now.
They empty, smell
like cucumbers, like
new beginnings.

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Madeline Artenberg’s poetry appears in many publications, including Absinthe Literary Review and Rattle.  In 2020, two of her poems were included in the world-wide anthology The Poet: War & Battle.