Blue Eyes and Eggshells

In his chubby little hands

He clutched them

As he ran,

Running the lumpy ground,

Lumpy with apples

And crabgrass, behind him,

And under the blossoming trees,

Cupping the smooth,

Blue of them,

He scampered home,

Home to show someone,

While beaming proudly.

Heart beating,

Blood pounding,

Eyelashes fluttering

And blue eyes bright

With excitement.

Then mother scolds

For stealing

What he thought

He had found:

Just strange, funny,

Blue rocks.

She softly explains

That a living thing with

A heart beating,

Blood pounding,

And a faint pulse fluttering,

Sleeps inside.

Confused,

Disappointed,

Holding them gently

Now, looser now,

He carries them,

Walking over the

Cloddy orchard ground,

To the tree,

Where a red-breasted bird

Flits wild and frantic,

Around and down.

Its heart beating,

Blood pounding,

Wings fluttering,

Looking for the children

Dressed in

Eggshell blue.