Day 28

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self-portrait by Emma


Sparrows At The Market

Green Eyes

Milky green glaze on a
French antique water pitcher.
Not bright but wise, older,
worn for their age.
The color has depth,
pale depth, like an inlet
where lily pads have
covered the water’s surface,
where cattails grow
comfortably and ducks hide
on the shore to care for their young.


There is a place
between Race Point and the lighthouse
where such a green exists.
It’s where we saw a blue heron
and an egret feeding together.
We drove by them 4
times just to spy as
those two majestic birds
stood on their long
lanky legs
just at the grass’s edge,
in the marsh, the green marsh.

In those young eyes
in their shade of green.
There is knowledge and
compassion beyond your years
They watch or stare into
blankness trying to take in
all that they saw today.
Let them close. Sleep, may
your dreams be as gentle as
that green.


Today was all about snow squalls. They came in and out.





All poems and photos by Lindy unless otherwise noted.