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Anachronism

By John I. Blair

From an album decades old
Today I’m scanning photos
Reminding how I looked
When young and juicy.

Where are all the wrinkles,
Wizened skin, wobbly ankles,
Grizzled hair?
I barely recognize me.

It takes a catapult of faith
To find that winsome fellow
Still is winsome, maybe wiser,
And still in there.

©2007 John I. Blair

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