Lines of wisdom follow
furrowed brow trails
to crossroads of pain
and intersections of loss
Squinting-squishy eyes
of babies crow feet laughter
Routing whincing pains of joy
to gratefulness etched
Streets of glowing creases
behind pretentious fast smiles
for lights dimming outside
Forging crinkled paths
back to inside's road
traveled not long ago
Highway twenty five
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This is the kind of poem that I could read over and over again and get something new out of it each time.
ReplyDeleteExcellent reply, and I thank you so much for it.
ReplyDeleteIt is exactly what every writer hopes for.
So good to see you. :)
Thanks for visiting my little blog.
See you soon.
Lisa