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warmth
laugh lines and wrinkles reside
with crow’s feet and sun spots beside
your skin serves as their home
and your heartbeat a metronome
faded scars and tainted eyes
crackled lips released of lies
now sitting on a rocking chair
contemplating your last breath of air
you feel the sun rays touch your cheeks
and the warmth of your grandson of two weeks

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I was insprired to write this piece after viewing a charcoal drawing of old, wrinkled hands holding baby feet.