Lines

lines etched in leathery hide
concentric circles of memory & loss, 
of joy & wisdom radiate outward
from eye to cheek to bridge of nose
and always tugged back to your downward gaze.

as if all your lumbering glory
your searching thirst and
desperate losses & joyful trumpets
could be contained
in that one
single tear.
the click of a shutter then, over there
opens a connection now, right here
a fragile link as my life
melts toward yours
over coffee and morning prayers.

as if all of my frail wanting
my longing heart and
hidden wounds & glorious gifts
could be contained
in your one
single
tear.

This photograph was taken by my husband last fall when he was on a once in a lifetime trip that included a safari in Africa. It now hangs above the fireplace. I see it every morning and wonder about that particular elephant. This poem is my experience of that photo.

2 thoughts on “Lines

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