Poetry Blog Day 6 Faces, Found poem, Chiasmus

Faces

All faces bear traces
Of places they have been
And things they have seen.
Baby face round, smooth
Unmarked, beautifully blank
Moves on to childface smiling
Screwed up, laughing and crying
By turns as he learns
To face the changes of fate
That come sooner or late
To everyone.
By middle age a face shows
Experience and what it knows
Things done, things not done
Paths once taken, tasks begun
When old age comes the face
Is marked by time but yet
There is a certain grace
In lines and wrinkles don’t forget
Faces are the story we read to the world.

Found Poem
from random words on fridge magnets

mother of some thousand moons
juice easy, weak,
hot repulsive scream

ESME