Eyes Poem by Mark Knapik

1

My wife
says their crinkles
I see
them both as wrinkles.

More like crow’s feet
aptly named:
crude
direct
piercing
but it’s not really the eye is it?

2

Picture ovals with sunbursts blasting;
craters stuck with a precariousness of chance, crying.
Dad said you only have one set
better take care of them.
One of grandpas married a BB.

Oh, the humour of it all
can swoon multitudes of species
offering sense of enlightenment
for all the blind to see.