Resemblance
I have my mother's eye color.
In 1930, when she was seventeen,
an admirer in Prague told her: "Young lady, you have
such a wonderful gaze—reminiscent of chamomile."
Indeed—yellow-brown irises
like the heart of that simple blossom.
And yet, somewhere deep behind them
I carry that defenseless, wistful tenderness
of my father’s pale blue eyes.
Just a tiny fragment of a forgotten
sky...
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
