Her Eyes Dart Round
by The Felice Brothers
What keeps me alive is the green in your eyes
And the sweet distant drone of your voice on the phone
Could I hear, in death, your voice and your breath?
Could I hear them sounds in life underground?
O how likely she walks among the white storks
And, crane in her neck, she steps ‘round the deck
Could I bow in the sand to your lily white hand?
Can my head gently rest in your lily white breast?




