Eyes Like Pieces of Sky

1. A stormy sky? Growling
with wind and black
with fury? Lashed with lightning
and clouded with rage? Or crisp
and bright—sparkling
with sunshine and crystal
blue sea azure clean
skies? (But you really couldn’t
say, you just get lost in them.)

Hair like morning mist

2. Not city mist
you say, not
those putrid clouds.
And not even
a forest mist, not that,
not that either.
What I’m talking about,
you say, is river mist.
Thick and heavy with streaks,
streaks of light and bird calls.
And floating (that’s important
too, very much so). Partially
because it moves around
her face like that
when she laughs.

Lips like strawberries

3. I got some at the grocery
the other day, you tell me,
and those are decidedly
not the type I mean.
My grandma
grew the right kind.
Bright red and sweet
and I only found bugs
in them a couple times.
That’s the type
I think about.