I saw your eyes
in evening snowfall,
blue as daylight's
midday sky ...
They say:
"Expect about ten inches"
and of course I wonder
why?
Why you carried self
so silent
over years of
press and burn
when you saw
the love you'd missed
in every twist
and turn?
Never once
would you look forward
to a life that
might have been
only now
within the secret
could one see
what you had seen.
Eyes of yours -
the evening snowfall;
like the full moon
at midnight.
You never saw
that blizzard coming
when you said
your last goodnight.
Pamela A. Lamppa
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