The Eyes Have It

Stroke along the lower lid

this tender tracery of time

gilt in grey, subtly tinged

some nights in blue,

and some in orchid.

Lachrymosely so inclined,

palpebral protection

un-watered droops

rained upon, shines.

Spinning tides

of season’s term . . .

summer from fall,

now spring from winter,

tint sclera in ruby and ruddy rose

a compliment of pollen’s loving throe.

So, sinuously smooth buff-toned sienna —

good citizens remember! Conceal imperfection!