SPRING 2013 (Issue 78)

April Bernard

These Men With Their Beautiful Eyes

Also flowerpots with their perfect abrasions,
in two colors, foggy cerulean and tarnished canary—

Leg up, the cat washes himself, curled
like a lutist of the Song dynasty—

The days, freighted with gorgeousness,
roll to a full stop.

Voluptuous fruit in the wire basket, taking
soft bruises from the wire—

Wind knocking the pencil to the floor, the papers
to the corners of the room—

Turn those eyes to me again, beautiful eyes
in which I am looking for, looking for.