2.11.04

An Overrated Virtue

...The exposed eyes
staring out of that wood startled me.
In the hot sun, my father
painted those eyes shut—paint
streaking out from under the brush—drying
in the August heat. It took several coats
to cover the gaze. To shield us from
what I now knew was always there.
Meanwhile, each blade of grass...


Michelle Detorie
Verse Daily
02.Nov.04