Two Poems
Damp Eyes
You matter not a whit to me.
My eyes are damp? They’re tears of joy!
I’ll find new lovers, two or three;
You matter not a whit to me.
You never were my cup of tea.
You’re Helen, yes—but not of Troy!
You matter not a whit to me.
My eyes are damp? Just tears of joy.
Amateur Astronomy
The constellations in her vast dark eyes
Induce a host of telescopes to rise.
—Don Thackrey, Dexter, MI
