Jul 2023
I carry my bags beneath
my no longer baby blues,
partly framed
and closer to grey
The bags darken with their weight
and they unwittingly pull
the eye down
from the splayed crows feet
I carry my bags
my no longer baby blues,
partly framed
and closer to grey
The bags darken with their weight
and they unwittingly pull
the eye down
from the splayed crows feet
I carry my bags
Prompted by a poem on this site, which I can't now find. Getting old.
