Reflection

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.

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