Michael Shepherd Eyes Poems

Saints.
Like swans, gliding untroubled so it seems
to us, lazing on the river bank
of a Seurat summer Sunday afternoon,
...

The door creaks as she opens it
and the fall of the heavy iron latch
echoes through the empty church.
...

If the soul had eyes unshadowed by
that restless fog that shorts my mortal stature;
eyes so bright with dazzling holy light
reflected pure from every living creature -
...

His open eyes, one catching the sun,
shining towards me – presumably
they still function optically:
recording, unmoved, unmoving, my presence;
...