Summer Conflagration

If I could have chosen the you you would become, 
the way I choose a perfect avocado, or a just-ripe cantaloupe 
from the produce aisle at Patsy’s Seaside Pantry,
I’d paint your eyes “Elderberry Blue,”  
the color on the walls of a long-abandoned beach house
where summers ago 
your childish laughter flew unbound
on sun filled breezes
until suddenly one summer 
your laughter bent, 
then shattered,
and your blue eyes grayed, 
like ashes, 
from the fires in your brain.