Family Photo by Michele Mattice The furrows on my mother’s face frame her features, like a photo of a warm, familiar place as comfortable as home. Her features—a framed photo, crinkled as fine linen and comfortable as home— tell a story, draw me in. Linen-crinkled skin pulls her coffee-colored eyes into a squint, as I’m drawn in to the depth of her soft smile. Her coffee-colored eyes dance as memories, retold, deepen her soft smile, each worth more than gold. We dance to stories told— a near-century of life— treasured more than gold; years as mother, teacher, wife. A near-century of life, yet beauty never clearer. Years as mother, teacher, wife grace the face seen in the mirror. Graceful beauty ever clearer, born of a familiar place. I look into the mirror, I see my mother’s face. Bio: "A native of upstate New York, I currently reside in Indianapolis with my husband and son. I have studied poetry under Shari Wagner, Micah Ling, Allison Jose
Flying Island is the Online Literary Journal of the Indiana Writers Center, accepting submissions from Midwest residents and those with significant ties to the Midwest.