Poetry (Day 203): Beholder

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      Beholder

 

Watching her is like reading
poetry of the mundane.
She makes simple, everyday things

beautiful.

In the kitchen, moving around
the work triangle as if she can hear Strauss
while the rest of us hear pots and pans.
Cutting vegetables like a clatter of glass heels
as she rushes from the ball.

Simple things.

Her face as she sits and reads. Eyes
flitting from word to word like
a hummingbird in a garden
painted by spring. Emotions
chasing themselves across her lips,
as the world fills her.

Everyday things.

The way she stands at the window
in the morning, greeting the day
with a feline stretch and a moment
of silence.

She makes simple, everyday things

beautiful.

But beauty is such an
intimate thing and what one
man cherishes, another dismisses.
So her beauty it is not about how
she looks or what she does.
It is about how I look.

How I observe.

It is about how I read
the poetry of her soul
in those simple, everyday things.

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