Taking a chance, I burrow into the furrows of my freckle-spattered skin,

digging out the white-grey hairs

to display them, proudly, alongside any golden reminders of another me.


There are so many versions of myself, in evidence still – each one

as worthy of existence, as the one before that lingers,

hanging on and jostling for attention.


To be fair, I devote a little bit of time to each, before preparing the surface of myself

for all of newbies.


Copyright owned by Jay Cool, August 2019

Resident Poet

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