I tap, not wave, my cane just so,
A gentle sweep, a to-and-fro.
It’s not a drum, a magic wand,
Or something meant to strike a pond.
Low and wide, a steady beat,
Left says “clear,” right says “feet.”
The cane goes first, I follow next —
Plot twist: curbs are very un-vexed.
I don’t stab grass or fence or friend,
The arc is smooth from end to end.
Too short a swing? Surprise, a chair.
Too wide a swing? Apologies, air.
Hold it light, but not too loose,
This tool is brains, not brute-force use.
It reads the world one tap at a time,
Like sidewalk Braille, but way more rhyme.
So watch me glide, informed, not guessing,
Good technique is oddly blessing.
A white cane used the proper way
Turns “uh-oh” into “okay.”
Happy Valentine’s tapping . . .
Victoria Ackerman, O&M Instructor, TVI, Low Vision Specialist