February 9, 2010 at 8:17 am (Uncategorized) ()

I can see the future in my veins.

When I was little I used to stroke

those on my mother’s hands

and wonder at them

and my grandmother’s,

her skin fragile as tissue paper.

Now mine bulge gently against my skin

to the amusement of my daughter

and my mother’s

resemble my grandmother’s.

So as my skin

becomes more delicate

with the years,

I do not worry

where it will all end.


inspired by Rick at Words are my Drug of Choice


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