“Could that be so-and-so?” I ask, then I recall
when last I saw that face; it could not look the same.
Who was I then? Who am I now?
Have the interleafing passages of time
made changes? My mirror
reflects both now and then.
As leaves fall branches reveal their truth.
As years pass, faces describe ours.
Our DNA resembles that of trees:
rooted in cell memory, skin bark encloses our flesh.
No birds nest in our hair,
only random thoughts
and an occasional prayer.