But the fine lines on your face

What do you mostly love in me,

my eyelashes or my smile?

It is not your eyelashes nor your smile

that I mostly love in you

But the fine lines on your face

And the white colour of your hair,

what I most deeply like

For your eyelashes faced the world

And your smile its wonders described.

But among these lines a million stories have walked

And between these hairs a thousand tears dried.

In their depths humanity lies.

Photo by photographer Dorothea Lange
Family of migrant agricultural workers in California during the Great Depression, in the 30s