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There she sits, alert,
clouded blue eyes revealing rain
and the rising mist.
She hasn't moved for a long time now;
out of sadness, injury or fear
I know not.
Perhaps she has seen and felt
everything already.
Or maybe from her glistening post
she absorbs enough of the night's wonder.
Neither predator nor prey,
nothing evades her motionless gaze.
Oh, to know what thoughts turn
behind those world-washed eyes!
Yet I cannot.
And still she sits there, alert,
both welcoming and repelling me
without a flinch.
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Yes!
regards
dr
World washed eyes - welcoming and repelling me
without a flinch.
Really nice Derek.
Thanks very much, Adam. I've also really enjoyed your stuff. Love Poem was extremely evocative - the imprint on sheets etc. Though the absent lover left me wondering if it wasn't a Lost Love poem. Really unique writing I thought
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