METAMORPHOSIS
gone, the liquid brown eyes
bedroom variety
the blood-red lips
full, like a woman’s
gone forever, the love of my youth
his arrogance and beauty
instead, a grizzled fellow
knees not what they used to be
but kind…even that, kind
a kindness not remembered
in manner, voice or
in his eyes
how many skins were shed
to become this man
I thought I knew?
what miracle has taken place here?
a terrible humbling?
a Damascun conversion?
an ego eroded by the
water drip of time?
and yet…
what matters most
is not the change
what matters is the loss
of children’s trust
of common roots
of two lives shared
then broken
gone, the liquid brown eyes
bedroom variety
the blood-red lips
full, like a woman’s
gone forever, the love of my youth
his arrogance and beauty
instead, a grizzled fellow
knees not what they used to be
but kind…even that, kind
a kindness not remembered
in manner, voice or
in his eyes
how many skins were shed
to become this man
I thought I knew?
what miracle has taken place here?
a terrible humbling?
a Damascun conversion?
an ego eroded by the
water drip of time?
and yet…
what matters most
is not the change
what matters is the loss
of children’s trust
of common roots
of two lives shared
then broken
r.kv.r.y. summer/fall 2007 Poetry
by janice h. mikesell
by janice h. mikesell
