Worn
and so exhausted,
yet
still stumbling onward,
near
the end of the trail
of a
very long life
Through
the many years
the
journey was fueled
by curiosity
and pleasure,
with
a strong, energetic body
and
no all-consuming heartaches
Sweet
memories endure
despite
the flawed body
whose
certain destiny
is
sickness and then death,
perhaps an afterlife
The pencil artist took
just minutes to capture
the prissy expression
on my youthful face,
many decades ago
My wife put the work
on our bedroom wall,
a daily reminder
that his vision of me
differed from mine
I
appreciate only now
as my ego has receded
with the onset of age
the perceptive skill
of that street artist
A
suggestion: try my novel, THE
HERO, on Kindle
