Monday, May 20, 2019

True and lovely …

Hands

It was a spring day when I sat
with you on the patio of your
life. Your hands and face
marked with spots of age and
you spoke of time how it went
so slowly in the beginning and
so quickly as you approached
the end. I think of you as I
count the spots on my hands
notice the ones on my face.

From Stale Bread and Coffee by g. emil reutter
                    

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