Poem By Indigo Hawkins

Faded, beaten blue,
You’ve had your share of bruises
And broken limbs.
Once lustrous hair falls to the ground,
Veins protruding, tripping,
Scrapping, ripping youthful skin.
Weariness is evident in your
Misty morning sighs, dark coal eyes,
And freshwater tears.
This hasn’t been an easy set of years
Yet the tears are what created you-
What carved the character into
Your weathered face;
They healed those old wounds
And now, replenishing,
They whisper a lullaby:
Ancient, august, placid, patient.
Your gnarled fingers reach toward the sky
Cradling innocence and embracing adventure
By offering a cool reprieve.

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