MUDDY + BROWN

When I think of your eyes
That physical greeness...
Flecked just a little with muddy
and brown
Those unique inner sparks of the
conscious and you
Those exact little points where
your essence shone through

And when I think of your hands,
your beautiful hands
Warm and alive with hugs and
with balms
Criss crossed with fortune and
bloodlines and song
And the ones that carved... 'soon'
On your palms all along

Then I think where it is
That aliveness can go
Think...how can it be
That not one of us knows
And that this is a terrible thing
....a terrible terrible thing.

M P 27/1/22