POEM
Blue Eyes
You know that blue
The one
In crowded June skies
Through holes: whisper-edged
And brilliant
Like a flash from an old box camera
That blue some call Eggshell.
It was that kind of blue
Hard and vulnerable as eggshells
Cracked me
Across the counter
When she glanced up
Over her coffee
And slow-blinked.
(mike smith 2004)
posted by mike smith @ 10:27 PM
1 Comments:
hi chance,
Yes, this is one of mine ..one of my favorites too, even two years after writing it.. (not so many poems stand that test.) It was published by Wayfarer's magazine (UK).
How did you find my new blog.?
best wishes
Mike
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