If only
you can see the future
You won’t get hung up
on wrapping your arms
around the memory
of your thriving youth
The old self you shed
pushing outward
to form calluses
telling the world
that you are wiser
by counting the rings
of your wrinkles
You never see the future
of your exhausted face
made into sheets of canvas
for beauty to take forms
pleasing to our eyes
and souls
