Recent Poem
Theia
The child’s dark hazel eyes,
older than her eight months,
find mine, me, recognize
the good I lived for once;
compassion in that gaze
annuls my days and ways.
And in no time a smile
unbidden, unrehearsed,
incapable of guile,
appears to say The worst
is yet to come to you,
but it’s ok. You’ll do.
