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	<title>Zócalo Public Squareblindness &#8211; Zócalo Public Square</title>
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	<description>Ideas Journalism With a Head and a Heart</description>
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		<title>Night Blind</title>
		<link>https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2016/12/02/night-blind/chronicles/poetry/</link>
		<comments>https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2016/12/02/night-blind/chronicles/poetry/#respond</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 02 Dec 2016 08:01:11 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator>By Rebecca Norris Webb</dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[blindness]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[light]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[night]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poem]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[poetry]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[vision]]></category>

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		<description><![CDATA[<p>One night, driving along Blue River Road, I’m startled and disoriented by the shock of headlights coming up over a hill.   When you’re night blind like me, the vision blurs, and in that moment before clarity returns, you see only edges of images—here, a road sign; there, a sycamore—and feel suspended, not quite yourself, not quite alone.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2016/12/02/night-blind/chronicles/poetry/">Night Blind</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org">Zócalo Public Square</a>.</p>
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				<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>One night, driving along Blue River Road, I’m startled and disoriented by the shock of headlights coming up over a hill.   When you’re night blind like me, the vision blurs, and in that moment before clarity returns, you see only edges of images—here, a road sign; there, a sycamore—and feel suspended, not quite yourself, not quite alone.</p>
<p>The post <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org/2016/12/02/night-blind/chronicles/poetry/">Night Blind</a> appeared first on <a rel="nofollow" href="https://legacy.zocalopublicsquare.org">Zócalo Public Square</a>.</p>
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