“Blue Eyes and Eggshells,” New Era, Aug. 1989, 24
Blue Eyes and Eggshells
In his chubby little hands
He clutched them
As he ran,
Running the lumpy ground,
Lumpy with apples
And crabgrass, behind him,
And under the blossoming trees,
Cupping the smooth,
Blue of them,
He scampered home,
Home to show someone,
While beaming proudly.
Heart beating,
Blood pounding,
Eyelashes fluttering
And blue eyes bright
With excitement.
Then mother scolds
For stealing
What he thought
He had found:
Just strange, funny,
Blue rocks.
She softly explains
That a living thing with
A heart beating,
Blood pounding,
And a faint pulse fluttering,
Sleeps inside.
Confused,
Disappointed,
Holding them gently
Now, looser now,
He carries them,
Walking over the
Cloddy orchard ground,
To the tree,
Where a red-breasted bird
Flits wild and frantic,
Around and down.
Its heart beating,
Blood pounding,
Wings fluttering,
Looking for the children
Dressed in
Eggshell blue.