Ode to wrinkles
Lines mark this weathered face.
Each a journey interfaced with life.
Oh how I cherish most, these wrinkles;
for they map a pretty balanced existence.
I know some of you mock me~
reminding me why you came to be,
but wrinkles that's okay; I'm still alive.
I'm a bit crinkled with the evidence of your homesteading.
Wrinkles you though, to me, are medals-
medals earned while I waged war
with illness, a teenager, and the process of getting older.
So I accept you and embrace you as such.
Remember dear wrinkles, you too shall come to pass-
for when I no longer journey this earth, when I
recline within the bowels of cold compacted clay,
you too will rest with me, no longer mocking.