The Wind Will Change
July 1, 2012

The wind will change,
Mom said,
and you’ll be stuck looking like that.

I scowled at the mirror,
examining the wrinkles.
Smiled, frowned,
was surprised.

The wind didn’t change.

My face remained
smooth.

Mom’s eyes laughed,
the laughs of years
stuck there by the changing winds.

Then, somehow,
the wind changed.
The canyon in my brow
won’t smooth out.
The scowls, joys and surprises
etched there by the wind.

And now,
my son scowls at me,
his beautiful smooth face
contorted and creased.
He wonders why I laugh,
and tell him
the wind will change.