Meeting Hazel
#not poetry
#but something like it
#i guess
I was reminded of us as I sat there on the porch swing,
My eyes following the little stray kitten with lime eyes
as it in turn followed you, lost at work in your garden.
Its body was a cliched story of neglect; its voice rang
high and clear for attention, affection; anything but ‘shun’
My eyes observed yours eyes, observing those lime orbs
As they in turn watched you, flashing hungrily for attention,
for your second of devotion, of lime meeting hazel.
And they did manage, in that second, to steal your heart.
As the colors magically twined to make their unique hue,
a bond was made, a love shared, a longing abated.
I sat there on the porch swing and thought to myself
with a lazy grin, our story is not so different at all.
