Yvonne and me. . .

                         Eyes

I have your name

             but never knew you,

          an ocean and language apart,

          Grandmaman-with-brown-eyes,

          Yvonne.

You were a writer too.

          Mama said

          My gift for words came from yours.

          But . . .

          In all your treasure-boxed letters

          to my childhood self--

          "Obey your parents!"

          "Do well in your studies!"

          "Be careful where you marry . . ."--

          I never heard

          your writer's voice.

I'm older now . . .

         And Mama--

          Gisele--

          storm-blue eyes mirrored

          in mine--

          says

          I remind her of you.

I wonder how . . .

Until

          green eyes

          my child

          Michelle

          sees me . . .

Looking at her

          through your

          long-ago

          photograph

          eyes.

                                                   25 July 2001