My father and my brother have brown eyes. My mom and I have bitter blue eyes. But we are connected in two ways—our eyes change colors, like the leaves in autumn. Our eyes help us catch a glimpse at the same world we live in together.

My brother’s eyes are grass changing from a bright green to a dried out brown after a summer of thriving. His eyes help him make the straight precise cut lines in the grass at work being a landscaper.

My father’s eyes are the dark brown like the crisp winter nights. His eyes watch as his hands guide the electrical wires to their correct positions.

My mother’s eyes are bright blue like the Carribean seas, clear, crystal and pure. Her eyes smiling yet weeping at her children grow up. Her eyes screaming the sense of loneliness as her children depart.  

My eyes are the reflection of my mother’s eyes. Deep blue like the greatest depths of the ocean that has not been discovered. Deep blue eyes jumping out at you for attention. My father and my brother have brown eyes. My mom and I have bitter blue eyes.