your eyes

Wild sunflowers,

how do you see with such hierarchy and intensity?

I am naked before you,

although I stand fully clothed.

Your eyes invade my senses.

I see the sun on your petals.

I can smell the last rain on your hair.

I hear your soft growl of welcoming and warning.

Though I came to find you,

I’m convinced.

Golden eyes,

you are hunting me.


*This poem was inspired by this painting by my good friend, Meryl Goudey:


You can see more of Meryl’s wonderful art at Fine Art America.