We lost the poet Kamilah Aisha Moon last year. In this poem, “Cataracts,” she writes about the cloudy vision many of us will experience as we age. The poem starts with a surprising image of the ...
the crosshairs locking in on its target finding myself a fighter pilot inside a cockpit canopy. An exhale of pressure, slight as a concubine kissing an eyelid, followed by an ultrasound impact.
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