awaiting

those eyes
spun ice
winter tundra eyes
quiet lashes
upon lashes ink
stained fingers
my poet a flutter
in November
twilight electric
aspen leaves
over prairie plains
those eyes I drew
from memory I drew
as my dream
I drew as smoke rising
from my lips
my poet passed
within miles & I lost
a breath
the cello stirred
sleeping birds awoke
the Lady of Shalott turned
from Lancelot
for those Black Sea eyes
in everything