Look Upon

I thought perhaps beauty
belonged to those girls who giggled about
with picket fence smiles;
for the construction crew clamored, like vernal fools
as they pranced by,

but abruptly, quite fortuitously
I caught sight of
a young woman
whose hands sashayed, like a danseuse
across her notebook,
as though she scribed beauty itself
in the palm of a poem (or perhaps some mystery novel)-
with no inclination that
an epiphany grappled me, like vision
colliding with a blind man
and now I regard beauty
as it was intended to be seen