The Eyes Have It

The Eyes Have It The nakedness in her eyes bares her soul, so tender her country girl image, dancing in full bloom, on better days, her eyes, like tanning sunflowers on a farm, lapping the sun, earth and water. Her eyes, once, lapping, full of life and vigor ... like brown sunflowers in a garden manicured nicely with blue jays and rabbits near a spring, singing and hopping, her touches, so tender and deep in her soul, and in her eyes. Life once gracing her. Loved ones, especially. Her eyes now befallen, the last bridge in our time. Me. I remember sadly the reflection in her eyes, they swelled, deeply, lonely and vacant, with tears, matching mine. It was the last road we crossed. It was my sin. On the precipice was a friendship that sank. Her eyes, deserving, now closed to mine. connie pachecho 7/13/17