He Peers - Aug. 2, 2025

his once landscaped front yard,

when he bought the house,

had a wife and couple of kids,

is down to a gnarled olive tree,

bedraggled oleander hedge

and halfdead beavertail cactus

now they are mirrors he visits

every morning, cane in hand,

as he shuffles between them

reflected in them, memories

of a young family playing among

all the newly planted possibilities

now peering deeply into one,

touching it, he sees life

suffering in the summer heat

and the wrinkles of change

on the bark of his own face