Poetry, notes, and drawings by William Michaelian
This reminds me that the lines in everyone's faces are growing, not just mine.
I thought, very briefly, of going into detail, but of course we each have our own. And I suppose that’s one thing that makes this a poem. At the same time, friends like you, and other astute observers, are quite capable of reading between the lines. Thanks, Kevin.
All of our deepest secrets are buried in those lines. The sacred text of our passage through the 'slings and arrow of outrageous fortune'
The truth of that text is the source of its fascination and beauty — and I suppose for some, denial and fright. No wonder it stops the mind in its tracks. Thank you, Donna.
I love this, William...so true. This is what I love about elderly faces and hands...they tell stories without words. Like reading Braille, but with your eyes.
Yes, exactly so. Thank you, Jan.
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