My Gallery Of Faces Poem by shimon weinroth

a slant from slits and slats
he has the softest eyes, watery, doeful,
is it compassion and empathy-
or some rheumy vapor bathing the scene,
doubts washed away by sonorous baritone
soft delicate and feeling and a shy smile

now I know what she sees in him
the seas the oceans, green fields blue skies
merry meadows, his sun her moon
divine dance of heavenly bodies circling
with a love that lives breathing nostalgia of
an infinity that lives