You look different

   You look the same

        What am I to say?

	How do I speak

	           to each weathered line

		What is behind those

		       sunken cheeks

			     hollow eyes

			all the time

			   missed?

	Outside the half-circle

	      the pendulum swings

		finding cold the ashes

		   tragedies

		        struggles

		  hazy

		      to be found

			       recollections

		 so weathered

		        that no shore approaches

				 but somehow

		it'll still be found

		       run aground.