Poem: "The Eyes"

© 2000 by Andersen Silva

He looked up as he plodded
     Down 42nd Street,
So many nameless faces
     All shuffling to some beat.
So many anonymities,
     But then, to his surprise,
He suddenly made contact
     With a pair of hazel eyes.

She looked into his soul's windows
     And didn't look away.
A wry smile grew inside his mind;
     "All right," he thought, "I'll play."
He gazed back at her placidly,
     His cold blue eyes grew warm.
And only then did he glance down
     To admire her female form.

As she passed him by that day,
     He hazarded a grin.
She kept her lovely eyes on his
     But still, to his chagrin,
The woman walked away from him,
     Without reciprocating.
He chuckled silently, knowing
     That other eyes were waiting.