Friday, February 24, 2017

Crow’s Feet

I ain’t never been nowhere, not really.
The grooves at the sides of my eyes
make it seem like I been around, seen
some things, know what’s what. But
that just ain’t the case. No, them lines
from a whole lot of staying-put pain,
from being all the time surrounded
by too much come and too much go,
mostly go. I guess sometimes life’s
just stumbling right into where you
s’posed to be, which is, maybe, same
as always being just a little too scared.
Still, I don’t know if I’d do things too
awfully different if I started all the way
back from scratch. I’m used to these old
crow’s feet in the mirror. I like knowing
how they got there – and I’ll tell you what,
it weren’t from staring all day long at the sun.


First appeared in San Pedro River Review - Spring 2017

(Pushcart nominated)

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