As I hiked a rocky trail
I came upon a series of craters
in the rock, formed by rain having
pooled in tiny indentations made larger
by the force of water and time,
and one of these craters looked
like the face of the moon.
Later, further down the mountain,
I saw the face again—this time
in a knot on an aged tree
in a dense part of the forest
where all the trees were thin
and grew straight up, searching
for light, with no branches anywhere
near the ground. Later I realized the face
looked like the one I see in the mirror,
only craggier and even more ancient
and filled with wonder and surprise.
