There were some things that we did notice,
on that holy Tuesday;
the way light moves on curved surfaces, enshrining a beetle
like a hologram
or how the spider’s prey looks like a clod of earth when it is doomed
already, or how the young children
passionately expect the sky to fall down any minute.
Other things will, naturally, have escaped us:
the silent parentheses of a friend’s humble chatter,
the turn of an eyeball on its axis, signifying the storm
to come and the malevolent
wink of the grey clouds. We saw less than
we could have done,
but maybe it is better for the eye
to be selective in what it drinks in,
otherwise
we see things that cut us more deeply than
the brightest glare.