Celebrating The Wrinkle (Poetry)

Like tree rings —
each line holds the warmth
of summers past —
its shadow on the skin
a gentle fold to mark
another year —
keep its place
to stop time sliding
from the smoothness
of a face
unnoted — as though the seasons
travelled through
were empty — held no worth
and thus went unrecorded
in their passing.

So let each wrinkle tell
of life’s experience —
a gentle rain’s erosion
the glancing touch of freckle-giving sun
long furrows carved by thought
and the stretching landscape of a million smiles...
they are the body’s keepsakes
and this morning’s mirror adds one
to the score.