Morning’s mirror elaborates
On images
All the way
To large feet
Loss of hair and skinny legs
Teeth worn down
From lack of money
Yet kicking at the can
Ain’t the way to get to town
In that smile I can rise
Above distractions
Ragged sweater
A colour of circumstances
This arm reaching
Opens a path to memory
Points at my
Relevance upon this earth
A passion for life
Thrusting trees
And shades of sky parallel
To forest of unfulfilled
Journeys.
© Richard L. Provencher
Website: www.wsprog.com/rp/
