Some grapes that grow each season,
Ferment and age into fine wine…
The unpicked harvest in the sun,
Turns to raisins on the vine.
Fresh plums and humans past their spring,
Shrivel, after one too many moons…
No longer marketed as “fresh”,
We’re repackaged now as Prunes.
But you know, the wrinkles on our faces are like wrinkles in the brain: the more of them there are, the more information is stored in there. A writer friend wrote: "A young person is to an old person/As a blank page is to a poem."
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