Lyn Lifshin
The Man Who Brought Emerald Mandarin Oranges

because they
were the color
of his eyes
and he could feel my
legs turn
to sea water.
He was leaning too
close, knew I wanted
to. His eyes whole
oceans full of
crinkly fish.
He wore light green
clothes. Wheat
was what he cared
for, buying and
selling. He knew the
green would be
striking against a
field of wheat,
startling as when he
moved near me
on the couch. Green
eyes of water. Sea
that dazzles, pulls cars
off route 1A, his
hair black, blacker
than rocks
at Big Sur