The Mind and the Calendar (a Sestina)

The Mind and the Calendar
Trucks war torn, their eyes
Blinking in pain; blind,
Bending in sculptures we walk
Noting the changes of mind
Of the woman who set to her calendar
The mixing of autumn leaves

Between telescoping lights she leaves
Fixing her eyes
To the rote of a calendar
She knows what the blind
Would say if in fact they mind
The anthills that burst from the walk.

The forest road awakens to the walk
Of our feet upon the leaves
That speak their mind
With colors in their eyes.
They are blind
Before the calendar.

We have searched the calendar
Seeking the timeliest walk;
At night our steps are blind
Scattering the leaves;
How short is the reach of our eyes
How light are the steps of the mind.

When morning clears the mind
Turning a page of the calendar
Stirring the ink in its eyes
We are babes that learn to walk
And men who learn to blind
Ourselves until the sun leaves.

The old man leaves
A fancy of the mind
Not seen by the blind
Or noted on their calendar
The grating on the sidewalk
Is not meant to please the eyes.

Blind men feel time with no calendar.
The mind travels where they cannot walk
And leaves the burning mysteries to their eyes.
Hugh Talat Halman Published in "The Nation" / April 26, 1975