Saturday, June 16, 2012

When you grow old.

You look different
face so yellow, yet still young
I’d hardly have known you
but for the expression
and the sun
bent upon you
like a big white spot,
painted when the artist
still had paint.
I’d hardly have known you
and me?
What do you care of me?
This old face
could never look like yours again
could never be apart
of a cartwheel
or a swim,
well, listen, I will tell you
though you’ll still not hear
hearing is for other ears
more aged,
like cheese knows mold
you’ll grow old
then you will look like me
and then this photo
will be complete.

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