Eyes serene
eye a scene,
the trees are upside down.
Water falls around
turbid clouds stick,
churn nostalgic.
Twelve or thirteen years ago ties
me to eyes I would not recognize.
But I have lived this life.
And I’ve known luck beyond my imagination.
A once and former mare
spitting cherry pits in hair.
And if I still have some life to live
I saw it at the station.
Walking home in my old gloves
holding two small hands that will one day
write their own metaphors for love.
Seasinks
acraein 
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