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Heterochromia Iridum
by Meredith C Hartwell(blue)
My eyes are always blue
when I am in love.
I remember how they startled him
that day in college
during a staring contest in the
Student Union.
I swirled from emeralds to sapphires,
a bright wave of happiness,
and he knocked over my chair.
For the first time, I felt special.
(grey)
I should have known
how many ways we'd gone wrong
when I spent a decade in grey in New York.
Drowning in those dark pools of his,
I'd forgotten
that my own eyes once sparkled.
We were lost and searching, dull;
he forgot, too.
No more stars in our nights,
only clouds and
a long winter.
(amber)
You will know it when I'm angry
or hunting.
I stared into that Maryland campfire
until the yellow glow radiated from
behind my lashes.
Pounce and attack.
A regret that haunted me
half a lifetime.
And I ran.
If you see amber,
you should run, too.
(green)
"You won't see trees like that
up north."
The freedom of that Savannah moss
was not only reflected,
refracted,
but absorbed
and carried on through points
south and west,
stealing light from mirrors
in truck stop restrooms.
"You don't see green like that
in the desert."
I see most things differently
out here.
I am cultivating my new vision.
(ice)
I found ice in Pacific Time,
falling in love with the 101.
Sunsets and coastlines,
mountain passes and curves.
I changed my shirt a dozen times
trying to pull warmth
from crystals.
I thought I'd found diamonds
in Washington, Oregon, Idaho,
but by Utah,
there was only dust.
(silver)
It was a long, flat road
back East.
My eyes have lost some shimmer
since I came home.
The last time I glittered
was our first night,
but I am re-learning how
to shine in your light.
I carried trees across the desert,
swam rivers through canyons,
grew bigger than an ocean,
and brought home a heart of mountains.
Start climbing, boy.
You won't believe the colors
in this moon.
04/21/2014 Author's Note: This is in need of some detailed critique and probably some more research. There are too many poems about eyes, and it feels overdone, but I want this one. I am willing to play with it until I get it right. Please, please message me with comments, and thank you, always, for feedback.
Posted on 04/22/2014
Copyright © 2024 Meredith C Hartwell
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by Philip F De Pinto on 04/22/14 at 04:52 PM You wrote it. I read it. And I wouldn't mess with it in any drastic way, as it appears perfectly and delicately balanced to me and self sustaining just the way it is. |
| Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/23/14 at 03:11 PM I like this very much for its construction, tone, message, etc. etc. As for eyes, thy never go out of style, and you've used them quite uniquely here to maximum effect, As a result, I didn't see this piece as cliché in any way. My time on the net is limited, so the only question/suggestion is about (ice). Is it a color? If not, then it's the only title that isn't one. You might then want to change it something else to maintain uniformity. Other than that, great poem in my books. |
| Posted by Kristina Woodhill on 04/23/14 at 06:11 PM I enjoyed this journey of colors and the eyes reflecting different times of a life very much. |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 04/24/14 at 08:46 PM Those eyes could have been months, or years to mark a span of time. However, to your creation you recognized that perception through the eyes can also represent a span of time as we grow both in our sight and feelings. You have created a very nice poem about growing. |
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