Eye Shadow
I.
She tried it on in passing, not wanting to
Ignore the girl at the Dior counter,
Who wore it as if to advertise its allure.
Sure, but just a little, she said, sitting down.
There, the girl said, leaning back, as if
There’d been some transformation.
II.
In the street again, her eyes, which had been
Shadowless before, threw shade now,
As if each were a stone suspended in air
Above which a celestial light shone.
On the bus her hands grasped one another
As if for warmth in the cold of these shadows.
III.
She had meant to bring something home
For her daughter, who had stopped talking
To her again. A book from The Strand,
Or a box of macaroons from that place
On West Broadway, but walked in bearing
Only this – a shadow under each eye.