The mirror that once reflected the bloom of youth, now fogs. The heat fades, crossed by cool changes, surrendering its moment in the sun.
Framed faces of days gone by, dot the walls like snowflakes, falling from the sky, and a symphony of colors drift from the trees. The cottonwood begins to dance playfully on the breeze, framing my face, ever so softly, as subtle imprints of age, begin to mark my skin, like maps of a place we've yet to travel.
Seasons of our lives fly by, whispering the secrets of time. The planets align and stars are crossed, as I listen to my first sounds of frost
About the Creator
Kelli Sheckler-Amsden
Telling stories my heart needs to tell <3 life is a journey, not a competition
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Comments (3)
You give one quite a lot to think about with this one from past memories to the future and the seasons as well. Good job.
That's a really beautiful and thoughtful way to describe the feeling of getting older and the passing of time. The imagery of the mirror fogging and the cottonwood dancing is beautiful! I especially like the line about age marking your skin like "maps of a place we've yet to travel."
Lordy, I'm full blown menopausal and this hit like a whammy! Sharing on VSS poetry now. xx