Eyes of blue--spring flowers unaware
that elephants don’t care, naive
and soon a new blue, more like
black and blue, and blind.
Eyes of tears, inconsistent like
summer thunderstorms, consistent
like the kitchen faucet, with
loud. lonely. drops.
Eyes of sleep, hide the movie
replaying underneath, paused
in rest and peace, soft as
feathers against wind-chilled cheeks.
Eyes of pearls, found in a winter field,
should be dead, but grows a
few small flowers instead; beacons
of inviting hope in the frosty wind.
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