IrisMature

raw

crude

colorless

some may call them hazel

but within the contortions 

the valleys and crevices 

seas of blue-green

emerald strokes

dots of petrichor

like the smell of o-zone

and the flutter gone feeling 

of a butterfly's kiss

is a deeper meaning 

undefined

often unnoticed

many called them brown

most didn't bother to care

because they were not brown

nor green

nor hazel

or even grey

they were the color of morning prayer

autumn solemnity 

midnight mystery 

color undefined

The End

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