are neither blue nor brown
hazel is closer
but still not quite right
they seem to change
depending on the light
or maybe on her mood
it's hard to say
she calls them swamp colored
I beg to differ
they make me think of amber
or dark honey
a she-lions tawny coat
more often though
it's spices come to mind
with hints of saffron
cinnamon and light green dill
wide open and inquisitive
not shy
yet elusive as the colors
in the soapstone bowl
of my precious Yurok pipe

But it's not about the colors
it's the places
her eyes have taken me
the things
that they've taught me to see
the silences
the depths they've drawn me into
and with all the daily fare
of disappointments
anger, sorrow, laughter
it's those moments
when her eyes brim over
with the soft light of her love
a revelation
that wakes me from my dream
and brings me back
time after time
back to the one
reality that makes this world
my world a home