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Honey eyes honey eyes he said as he struggled to retain to recall the rudiments of this new language you have – the climax of his description of me spilled out – honey eyes his were   hazel the soldier who momentarily brushed my life who – returned to his men – was instantly promoted and sent no doubt to slay an innocent enemy who would – years later – be unearthed in a mass grave could a man – now surely dead – who told me I had honey eyes have done such things first published in Cork Literary Review 2007   and in Lines in the Sand Bradshaw Poets 2008 © Anne-Marie Glasheen 1995-2008