“ The Face ” ~ he’d known ~

I see the face,

A crowded place

That tells of life,

Would indicate

A past so filled,

Yet but depicts

A slightest trace

Of puerile days,

To hoary layers

Of crinkly grace,

Time so risks take

What’s left to hold

That offers hope

For man so bold,

To skirt a while

His resting place,

And he not find

The face he’d known

Now buried neath

A senescent waste!