brown eyes

I

look

into 

deep brown eyes 

and see the good earth. 

They are the color of the ground 

after my papí plows land in the first spring days.

In them I see the trees, for they are the color of bark in the early morning sun.

In them I see the sea, for they are the color of the water as it turns with sand and shells in the broken waves along the mid-day shore.

I love the plowed ground, walking through the cool dirt with bare feet; the bark of the trees, climbing the smooth branches, shirtless in the heat of the day; the sea, floating naked in the gently rocking waters of the ev’ning tide; her brown eyes

- Trevor Scott Barton, Fibonacci Poems, 2021