sometimes you write a poem
on a tissue…
Eyes
you know how you can close
your eyes to avoid…
thunder and lightning,
on a smaller scale,
but closer seems
bigger, weightier…
we are two trees,
you and I,
we sit next to each
other, not looking…
I need to look,
to focus,
but I would need eyes…
left eye can look
left only if it doesn’t move,
periphery is peripheral…
Point of view,
you’re looking over hills,
undulating with heather
and shrubbery…
Don’t call me an angel,
I made some choices
I’m not proud of…
If you can’t see
the pain in my eyes,
are you not looking
Warm me with your eyes,
hold my hand,
light me with your stars,
if I don’t follow you,
it’s because I’m at your side
Daily Poets 