Judith Lapadat

Blind Bill

invisible visitor
fills the tank of her dusty van
eats baby back ribs
walks the local scenic trail
Blind Bill's Cliff
green couch grass, nettles
force cracks in black slate
a jewel of time in this mountain town
turquoise knot in her memory scarf
however brief, becomes who she is

yet she leaves no trace
among the townspeople
blinking like somnambulists
their network of familiars
everyday objects, grandson, cat, willow tree
fills them, spends them

she is a shade in their midst
as unremarkable as a puff of wind
fingerprints on a shop window
paper litter blown against a curb;
less than Auntie’s kidney stone
carrot fly in the garden
graffiti on the cenotaph
lunch with the girls

when she moves here
they have never seen her before
days pass into years
as cousin of Marcie
mother of Jake
hair done at Sandi's
hikes Blind Bill
she is seen shopping, working
raffle booth at the mall
ticks in a register
for one then another
becomes visible.