Lines

I know each one, every line My eyes trace them every day From dawn’s light to dusk’s dark One fascinates me, long, curved It’s history hidden, for me to imagine, build a story Bisected by others, short, shallow or deeper Like stems of soft grass maybe It lays there, reflects light, casts gentle shadow But is one of many, unnumbered, multitudes Sometimes still often ambulant They frame smiles, laughs, sorrow, concentration Then in rest they return each to its practiced place For me to gaze upon them once more Engaging my wonder, my thoughts Building a beauty I will never forget