Wrinkles

While toiling and muttering Ranting and sputtering As I did battle with my shirt At the ironing board this morning I reflected: Wrinkles on ones face are Inevitable Unless one is Dorian Gray Or can Botox them away Wrinkles on ones clothes Can be ironed out Though I always have trouble With my crappy iron Though perhaps it's my Technique That fails me I've been ill equipped From the start To deal with The wrinkles in my life Just when I think I've smoothed them away Another takes its place And brings its friends along And I wind up In a morass of messy lines Synchronicity was at play When a little while later As I waited For my bus To take me into the city I noted a schoolboy Sitting on a bench, reading "A Wrinkle in Time" By Madelyn L'Engle If only, like Charles & Meg Wallace In that story One could jump Between dimensions Perhaps go back And make different choices So those wrinkles Would have never appeared Move forward And sidestep present sorrows And be wrinkle-free I only know That I want to be done with it Wrinkles and all Now