Lines
I know each one, every line
My eyes trace them every day
From dawn’s light to dusk’s dark
One fascinates me, long, curved
It’s history hidden, for me to imagine, build a story
Bisected by others, short, shallow or deeper
Like stems of soft grass maybe
It lays there, reflects light, casts gentle shadow
But is one of many, unnumbered, multitudes
Sometimes still often ambulant
They frame smiles, laughs, sorrow, concentration
Then in rest they return each to its practiced place
For me to gaze upon them once more
Engaging my wonder, my thoughts
Building a beauty I will never forget
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