Sunday, February 6, 2011

Poem #142

I hear that you like one poem
better than all of the rest—
something about your eyes.
I guess you think it's the best.

I don't recall just how it goes.
I suppose it's complimentary.
Perhaps it's about their beauty
or about how far they can see.

My darling wife tells me that her favorite poems are the ones about her ojos, but she got into the habit of saying "o-yos" instead of "o-hos". It's endearing.

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