My eyes

My eyes, aware of such
aware of light
aware of all things to delight

my eyes see things
I cannot see
their tiredness seeks a reason

Winter’s killing grip takes hold
to cleanse the air of much
It brings about a strange old feeling
… your eyes, aware of such

My eyes weep not
at the sight of love
for that sweet thing is lost

my eyes, aware of such
aware of time
aware of sunset’s rusty rime