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.