He blinked twice
with a memory
of warm white sand
and naked toes
that inspected sea shells
as his brogues
stepped gingerly over snow
he made his way
to the front porch
and he paused
and blinked
again.
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Truth (with a capital "T") is the elephant, and humanity the blind touching, sniffing, tasting, listening to this big "T" and of course we all rhapsodize a different tale (or tail?), yet in the end the big "T" is still the big "T" and all our various tales describe a tiny bit of that reality, the elephant.
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