I find myself in 
An odd place a
Place where my heart
Having long belonged to
Another road weary tired
Of trying to navigate
The ruts of relationship
And there in the
Distance a new person
Freshly paved and lit
A road absent of
Bumps and of potholes
It is odd this
Not the decision but
Of the idea of
Leaving behind what I
Know for something that
I know I don’t


I wonder why 
Two different pairs
Of eyes either
Adore or avoid
I have been
Found to be
Handsome by most
But here in
Denver I’m overlooked
And overpicked over
And over again
What they fail
To understand is
With my wrinkles
Also comes a
Roadmap of adventure
Of advice and
Admiration not for
Me but for
All those others
Whom I have
Take the young
With their dreams
And their futures
Give me wrinkles
For it’s wrinkles
That tells me
Something has been
Already worn has
Already served purpose
And master and
Has survived to
Tell its story
For stories are
What dreams have
Been made of