Why do you wear such dark glasses?

A single strip, two-inch wide,
buttery-golden highlight
radiates from her blue black
curly tresses
curly tresses that behave
in the humidity
and bounce
when she laughs
I bet
when she’s not laughing
she’s smiling
her lips marmalade
red -- candy apple -- not blood red
tinted glasses
cover her ebony eyes
not the trendy kind
but, the concealing kind
I did see her eyes – once
ebony, not nefarious,
melancholy, after asking,
“Why do you wear such dark glasses?
To mask the pain?
Disguise your sadness?”
“Perhaps...if I wanted to keep eye readers at bay,”
she spoke softly
the voice of angel
she reached for her glasses
and then hesitated
as if she changed her mind
she tilted her head
and peered at me
over her glasses:
“I refuse to look death in the eye.
And when death comes a knocking,
I won’t answer.”

Blooming Daffodils

"You can't do anything about the length of your life, but you can do something about its width and depth."
Henry Louis Mencken

Walking slowly
through wet grass
barefoot
touching the daffodils
hidden behind the deciduous trees
adoring its golden flowers
snuggling up to the sun
twirling carelessly
bouncing white, ruffled tulle dress
serenely reminiscent of a ballerina
eyes bright, full of life
indecipherable thoughts
but a coherent spirit
that speaks carpe diem-isms.