Hidden in the creases of his mind <br />are words, each word a key, <br />key to a dusty trunk <br />of treasures, some long ignored <br />until a recollection, clear, persistent, <br />an electronic ray, <br />pops the lid wide open <br />or until <br />curious fingers prise, <br />eyes wide, amazed. <br /> <br />Open on the creases of his face <br />are thoughts, each thought a rail <br />rail to a distant land <br />of pleasures, some long suppressed <br />until an evocation, small, relentless, <br />a radar signal, <br />rouses dormant pain <br />and becomes <br />paintbrush on the face, <br />eyes creased, amazed. <br /> <br />LRH <br />12.14.07<br /><br />Linda Hepner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/creases-of-his-mind/
