by Laurie Beth

Created on: September 08, 2008

Spectrum

As a little girl, I met a kind old man.
I couldn't understand the
Distance
Between the way he positioned
The muscles of his face
And the way I positioned mine.
I felt we were the same.

The sparkle in his left eye was tainted
With experience.
Suddenly my inferiority was such
That I believed I was small enough
To fit inside the wrinkles of his face.

A face that took my boredom
My confusion
My desperation
And multiplied them by infinity

As I took in the sweetness
Of his sadness
As can only be done by
The young and the old
I cried bitterly
Because we were so powerless.

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