Wrinkles
He knew upon that stage he’d find
all of himself, and how to stop
Mother’s wrinkles fleeing his mind-
there was a clear view from on top.
All of himself, and how to stop
feeling numb, was hard to fathom.
There was a clear view from on top,
below was a tomblike chasm.
Feeling numb was hard to fathom
years ago, his head in the clouds;
below was a tomblike chasm,
the edges housing bitter crowds.
Years ago, his head in the clouds,
he knew upon that stage he’d find:
the edges housing bitter crowds,
Mother’s wrinkles fleeing his mind.
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