centenarianby Anyssa Kim

his woodgrained face

of aged cork dry wine

poured forth from lips crimson

cranberry twinkle and

cherry blossom eyebrows

crinkled just so almost sour-sweet

taste of afternoon strokes

knobby knuckles on park bench

holding on for dear life, brace

against sharp young blades

ripping by gee! whiz, peripheral

blurs an overindulgent second

of exploding sparrow branches

intoxicating him again

with whiplash