At Poetic Asides, we’re still writing a Poem A Day. Today’s theme? Metamorphosis.  I promised Robert, no cockroaches!

Someone once said, “Before you’re 30, you look like what God made you. After 30, you look like what YOU made you.”


Can’t outrun the clock
It chimes, it chisels
upon our rocks of ages
our faces, once smooth

Now grooved with memories
of roaring laughter
and mysterious fears,
tears settle in grooves
then follow the trail
downward toward the heart

Crow’s feet from laughing
from smoking
from squinting
from shouting about
how life isn’t what you’d planned

Face placid, etched like acid,
smile lines betray
black Irish humor
that finds even the horrific
a bit funny, given time

The deep Rushmorian crack
by the right eyebrow
was the first divorce

And the brand-new dimple
next to the smile line that’s
next to the other smile line?

It seemed to appear after
talking about politics
with my dear chum today

© 2010 Amy Barlow Liberatore/Sharp Little Pencil