Lines of wisdom descend
from the corner of my eyes
to my temples, new gray
strands extend from my roots,
highlighting a maturing
face, and I am content
to see my father’s eyes,
my mother’s slender jawline,
and other family echos,
inherited traits that combine
to make this one unique
and imperfect face,
wrinkled, seasoned,
wearing a sketch of days
in the hollows, shadows,
and lines that trace
a history a being
alive.
—C.L. Fisher, March 2021
Unless otherwise indicated, all content, including writing and images, are the work of C.L. Fisher and may not be copied, used, or distributed without permission.
Poetic Meanderings 