Three final cinquains by Evelyn Coffey
Gray mist,
Speared with moonglow,
Sketched a weird silhouette
Against the fawning dusk of tall,
Gaunt trees.
* * *
Blue eyes
Hold deep-sea dreams,
Quiescent and purple
At evening, and dusted with stars
At night.
* * *
Flowers
Look to the sun
And adore him richly
In their blooming. Just so I turn
To you!
Evelyn Coffey
These are all visual. Whose blue eyes, I wonder. Hers were, I think. But in the final poem, her lower-case "him" and "you" seem to suggest a terrestrial beloved. Ahh, that mystery of Evelyn!
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