Not about the autistic, this poem is about certain city folk.
Autistic
big city folk can ignore
better than most autistic
kids who stare right through people;
these city folk hear nothing from the musical
tones of cell phones,
programmed for the perceptive;
no, warnings are nothing
to these city folk; they sit with cheerios
dripping from gums too tight
to chew, not understanding the air
they breathe, the noise they
hear, the rot-gutting
alcohol they slosh
down throats too eager
for pain.
This past Christmas I was afforded the glimpse of an autistic child. He was greatly loved by his father and siblings and amid the grunts and posturing he developed a like for me. I felt his love and although his eyes seemed empty his heart was full because of the love he shared. He knew more than I will ever learn about the piano and he never exercised a lesson. I think we learn about ourselves from being there with them.
Susan
Selected poems from previous & forthcoming collections together with Q&R apps on each page to enable audio rendition simultaneously with the written text
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interesting comparison, yet it rings true! many ignore what's around them, too blind to see what's right in front of their noses. well done!
(((HUGS))) and love, karla. :)
God BLess
Michelle!
Susan
Love Tinka