The Man With the Colorful Face, Poem and Art Piece

The Man With the Colorful Face 

Yesterday I saw an old man

With life seeping from his cracks

And wrinkles.

People, these days, think of being old

As painful and dibilitating,

They think of walking with a cane

And joints, hips, and knees

that crack

And break

They think of people who are a little more

Breakable 

Then everyone else.

As if the consequence of living long

Is pain.

When I saw this old man 

I saw color, 

life, 

seeping

From his cracks and wrinkles 

In a way it doesn't

For people without them.

As if the consequence of living long

Is something more. 

The pain and color from the years

Mixed up in the watercolor pallet

Of this man's life,

Is something I can only inaccurately describe

As beautiful.

Maybe language doesn't quite have a word

For that man I saw

Who walked with a cane,

And a drooping sort of pain,

And color seeping from his face. 

abby m.