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An Illumination
Tired tracks of tripped and tricky years
have left the scars, scrapes, battered
bruises and mangled memories etched upon my body, my soul.
Sway bent back with
stooped shoulders;
a halting,
limping walk takes me
on my way to bed.
Eyes lain on the night stand,
teeth stored in a glass,
cup full of pills I hesitate to take.
What little hair I have left
has turned to gray.
But the crows feet at the corners
of my mouth and eyes,
wrinkles in my brow.
Are of laughter, smiles, about
brand new faces of innocence.
They are more than enough compensation
they are kith and kin.
Grandpa with Grandchildren, Looking Out Kitchen Door, to a View He's Always Loved
Photographic Print
Parks, Gordon
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