by Stephanie Kent
His eyes. They looked as though they had lived much longer than he had; looked as though they had seen many more suns make their rounds than the score they had truly seen. Perhaps it was the way the twilight seemed to hang on them and fall under their spell. Perhaps it was the way the stars got caught in them, and were forever darting around, looking for their futile escape. His eyes...the ancient youth of them.
Posted on 04/12/2003
Copyright © 2022 Stephanie Kent
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Jason Moskalyk on 03/30/10 at 08:33 AM|
I'm really digging your use of language for imagery, it speaks volumes of the hidden eternal nature inside all of us. Thanks for sharing.