Sunday, August 14, 2022

Slate grey



Starting to look like my old self

Or young self

And when I steal a glance

In a random reflection

I have seen

The crazy haired

Listening

Clean slate

Child

That has been there

All along

Long time,

No see-

eyes were always grey.

Seriously-

is that the same 

insides out?


Born that way

They say

It goes that way, life

Mirrors...

What?


Again,

an echo reiterates.

Or so it seems slated,

Starting Over and I

Was Here

As if carved into

A tree.


Painting by Thorolf Holmboe, 'Weeping willows' c. 1907 in Public domain, via Wikimedia Commons.

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