My grandmother’s eyes are dark spheres of brown; they immediately hold your attention without any effort at all. Her piercing green irises offer the comfort and support you so desperately need. Your eyes begin to itch and water. Soon, you taste salty drops on your trembling lips. A smile creeps onto her withered lips, exposing the wrinkled lines near the sides of her mouth. Her brown lips curl up and flash her straight white teeth; she is smiling. Her smile so rare and ancient you cannot look away. Then she calls to you, her melodic voice smooth and rich. You know you are home, safe and sound in grandma’s presence.
My Grandmother's Eyes
April 22, 2012