Poem

Unwanted Night Walk

As a willing participant in Boston's RP research program
I agreed to fly in every year for six years around January
'Twas a noble cause but I disliked the electro-retinograms
And all the other tests at the Mass Eye and Ear Infirmary.

One year I made the mistake of assuming that sunset times
Were the same for Michigan and Boston, Massachusetts
Both were in the same time zone and shared cold climes
My plan was to fly into Boston one hour before sunset.

Alas, I flew in at sundown and got off the train in the dark
I intended to walk six blocks to the Episcopalian convent
Taking a night walk was terrifying but this I had to embark
Partly deafblind, whom could I trust was my sad lament.

I could neither ask a stranger to help nor call on the phone
Even if they responded, I wouldn't understand their speech
Not willing to risk exposing my vulnerability, I walked alone
Facing snow-covered streets, I did the Lord's help beseech.

Knowing how to get there, I picked up my bags and walked
By the light of dim street lamps, I stepped around snow drifts
And skirted around uneven bricks while nether shadows stalked
I tapped my boots to find curbs and crossed snowy street rifts.

After four blocks, I turned the corner and counted two more
Taking care not to slip or fall as I climbed the uphill icy street
I finally reached the convent safely and knocked on the door
The nuns did not hear me rapping so no one came to greet.

I was confused and wondered if I had made a wrong turn
I walked next door and knocked but still no one answered
Fighting panic that welled up inside me, I did a slow burn
With no response at a third door, I thought, how absurd.

Reader, you must remember that I could barely see anything
I had to feel my way alongside the brown¬stones and steps too
When I reached the corner, I slipped on black ice with a ding
My bags flew up in the air and I landed hard on my tushy tutu.

With the wind knocked out of me, I fought back the tears
After contemplating my precarious situation for a moment
I found my wits and gathered my bags amidst silent fears
And retraced my steps when in passing, I met a fine gent.

I swallowed my pride and asked for help to find the right door
He asked for the number and told me that I was already there
Feeling like a fool, I thanked him and knocked hard as before
To my great relief, a nun opened the heavy door with care.

She wondered why I had knocked instead of ringing the bell
With low vision, I never saw it 'til she pointed out the lit ringer
She bade me come inside and soon my quiet fears began to quell
"No one gets the door at mealtime," she said, shaking her finger.

"Either you come before or after our supper, that is the rule
We always eat in silence so that we can commune with God"
A novice raided the kitchen pantry to give me hearty fuel
Feeling snug and warm in my room, I dozed off with a nod.

Written by Ipo
June 11, 2007
Revised March 2008