they’re wary lines thus traced
in contours of your face – I’d say
apologia for ageing not
the way we’ve done
I see those youthful signs
in places where we crème to
stave a caving in and wonder
who you were
I know – you are eternally
a breath of air, the who of whom
we were before these corrugations
came to stay
the word Adonis doesn’t mean
a thing to you I’ll bet
and yet it’s you for sure
and therefore also me
© 21 July 2009, I. D. Carswell
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