Wondering About His Crevices
his face has deep crevices like the grand canyon
I wonder how many ideas dwell in their recesses
blue eyes are alert, I can see his youth in their shine
he turns the second he meets my eyes
perhaps I remind him of a daughter, as he reminds me ot things long gone
of my grandpa, of TV westerns, of what my face will be like someday
his hat is worn, his horse is slow, he hobbles toward the barn
I stay out of his way, wondering about his crevices
Copyright © Caren Krutsinger | Year Posted 2023
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