Face Reflections
by Odin odin@aflx.com — Read all 3,869 poems by Odin odin@aflx.com
I often wonder why identities continue their spiraling down into that which they are not. (Image by Seffis)
Saturday, March 31, 2018
Face Reflections
Making the face we get
starts with amoretto cheeks
beneath storybook eyes,
silken strands draped across the brow,
curious noses,
innocent lips.
Upon canvases so pure
strokes the brush of time,
dips into the palette of reality,
layering change upon change.
Colors,
some untainted,
others muddy.
Drying.
Cracking.
Flaking.
What of these reflections…
One’s personal artwork
now retired to Life’s attic of truth,
propped up against the inescapable walls of mind,
withdrawn into sheltered memories of yesterday-faces.
Once upon a time,
Smiles and frowns were formed for their own sake,
sad or happy,
rejecting or accepting,
knowing denial’s manufactured masks
were reserved for reality’s make-believe.
Face reflections know not lies
Two examples come to mind living in picturesque Carmel country. One retired many years ago and still has that inherent beauty as she quietly takes care of her dogs… Doris Day. The other continues to work hard on his productions and no longer has that boyish, Rowdy Yates, handsome looks. Clint Eastwood's face bearing the brunt of the hot sun on the location and the many grimaces he did while acting.
Ron
Love ya!
Jane