Tears
Tucked in the corners of eyes
like miniature crystal balls,
those tiny globes of saline,
they don\'t just fall,
they descend like the slowest rain,
bringing into focus
a landscape slightly bent.
As though peering through a fish-eye lens,
they reveal a world askew -
where the simplest chair leg
might look like a root of an oak,
or the edge of a stamp
could suddenly remind you
of the cliffs of Dover.
And all of it, every detail
swollen and blurred
by this watery prism,
as if painted by an artist
who cannot decide
between Impressionism
and drowning.