Crows feet
creases
lines of least
resistance

you tell me beauty fades,
misleading?

beauty takes us further down
the forest paths, passing dreams
that we
once splashed through and
to timeless glades where
beauty shines through.


In withered vines that once held promise
of the finest wines
time's ceaseless quest?
arresting beauty?

Shoot me
if I'm wrong,
but
doesn't beauty linger on the
flaming fingers of a dying heart?

A part of who we are is to see where we are,
sadly
there are those who never get that far
or get only
as far as the crow flies.