You come back these days
Your eyes, vivid.
A sideline question: “How are you?”
Fifteen years plus, I’ve covered your eyes,
With high-impact interruptions…
a war or two;
the loss of a partner or more.
I have chosen not to relive our moments…
The beauty is too painful.
Your eyes these days persist.
“How are you?”
And the answer pushes me off
the next heartbeat…
The image sweeping;
your eyes crying.
“Why are you crying?”
“I’ll be here next year. I promise…”
Since, I’ve not been able to touch
those glasses,
to wipe off the tears.
The brown in your eyes today glistens.
Fifteen years, I’ve dulled the pigments.
“How are you?”
“I miss you Dad. That’s how I am.”
