The Lake
The Lake
Your eyes grow deep as galaxies for me,
Much deeper than the sky at dusk, as high
And deep as midnight and serenity
Reflected on the surface like the cry
A swan sends echoing—all this because
Of death. Old memories include your head,
My lap, years stretched — gone; much later a pause
We shared between late innings. You are dead.
Forgotten things come swimming back as wet
And glistening as the eyes of banished Eve
When Cain had finished and their gazes met.
They met where looks should never meet or grieve.
yo Your eyes have grown as deep as oceans now
yoyoThat you have made your final, secret bow.