from “poems for a brown eyed girl”

The curves 

of her body 

reminded him

of the gently rolling hills 

below the mountains 

where he lived as a boy. 

Her brown eyes 

were the land to him.

She was beautiful 

like the land, 

like the flowers 

he found 

as he roamed the countryside

barefooted 

as his grandfather 

turned the earth 

with a donkey and a plow, 

like the leaves 

of the trees 

that sparkled green 

after the rains 

of the rainy season.

“Mi mariposa hermosa.”

“Estoy aqui, estoy aqui.”

They made love 

to each other 

to the sound 

of the rain

falling softly 

on the window 

in the city

of Havana.

               - Trevor Scott Barton, poems for a brown eyed girl, 2018