Pro-Yia-yia,
I remember when you were
Still alive
And asked to see
My eyes.

I was a ways from ten,
You were near one hundred.
You were sitting
On that plush armchair
With your
Silver waves of hair
Knotted nose
Wire glasses
The waves of ****** and the Aegean still residing
In your voice.

Your eyes…
I forget
Although they mirror mine.

You just wanted to see me
After being gone
So long.

And I refused to comply
And denied you to look into my eyes
And ran into another room.

I apologize, Pro-Yia-yia,
It wasn't in anger or defiance
But fear.

I'm sorry I didn't look into
Your eyes
And showed you mine.

I didn't want to look at what would
Become my reality.
Your image-- a reflection of mine
In due time.

That your image would become a reflection of
Mine
And what comes after.

I let the fears of the end of
My life
Turn my memory of you
Into one of regret.

Years have passed
And you have gone but,
It still runs through my mind.

How could I refuse to look into your
Weathered brown eyes
Because I fear my
Inevitable demise.