Aye to Eye

"The ayes have it!" she cheers,
throwing me a victory glance.
Sparks within her eyes, though,
flash - "The eyes have it!"     

Smiling, I think aloud, "I can see
it in the eyes."  With a slow scowl
that thaws into a grin she asks
"What did you say about the ayes?"

Staring into her wells of life
I affirm, "The eyes have it."
With care, she asks "They did win,
didn't they?"  I nod - helplessly.

© 2005 Francis Masat



Empty Glass
 
She watches not
her hand or glass,
but lets them meet
as if knowing
each other's curve
and fit.
 
She hesitates
then slides her hand
down the wine glass
to its slender shaft.

She holds the stem
as if to stroke it
with her fingertips.
But then she slinks
her hand away
and leaves -
without a glance
my way.

© 2005 Francis Masat



Sienna Photos – 60 Years
 

1896:  Suited, hatted, and unnamed -
standing straight, tall, and unsmiling.
Untethered from place and context,
his eyes pierce through all the years.
More windows than looking glasses,
his eyes then find mine now – staring.


1926:  Suited, unhatted, and named –
leaning, elbow on a fender, grinning.
Tethered to a black & white dog, his
eyes are jaunty under black shocks.
His eyes, too, find mine, but they are
more – my eyes have come from him.


1956:  Champions!  Names forgotten:
At the height of glory, our team is
reduced to shadows by a camera’s click.
Faded, hollow eyes stare straight ahead,
forever now, from their dusty frame
of a won, spent, and vanished dream.

© 2005 Francis Masat



Francis Masat: Lives in Key West, FL. The following have accepted 
his recent work:   Acorn, Amaze, flashquake, Frog Pond, Heron's Nest, 
Lynx, Mayfly, Modern Haiku, Paper Wasp, Poetry Midwest, Pegasus,
Poetic Voices, Prairie Poetry, Short Stuff, Stylus Poetry Journal,
The Pedestal.