|
Tired Eyes
If tired eyes could see
the world as it ticks
and stews and moves
in bedrooms where babies
sleep, their dreams
labyrinths to further days
where we can weep for time
and space and wishes spent
flying through air--
albino dandelion
fuzz floating
as hopeful girls
twirl and blow
with dresses spinning
and air scented
perfectly.
If tired eyes could see,
they’d look for Paris
folded in a paper napkin
or an electric eel as purple
as my veins beneath my skin
They’d look for calm
in crowded streets
or content worn on serious
faces.
Glasses full of wine
just the right shade of blush
as my cheeks blush for you
and finally as the world
would end, tired eyes
could close and see behind
the lids
balanced remains of simplicity
and acceptance
Julie Ellinger Hunt resides in North West NJ with her two crazy kids and husband (she swears they are part alien).
Her first book, Ever Changing, made an excellent beverage coaster. Julie's next collection, In New Jersey,
due out this Winter, is rumored to be better than the first. Especially as a plate trivet. Keep up with her
publications at J Hunt>
Email: Julie Ellinger Hunt
Return to Table of Contents
|