{"id":399,"date":"2014-02-26T00:01:51","date_gmt":"2014-02-26T00:01:51","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/?p=399"},"modified":"2014-02-26T00:01:51","modified_gmt":"2014-02-26T00:01:51","slug":"his-life-story-in-my-imagination","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/archives\/399","title":{"rendered":"His life story in my imagination. . . ."},"content":{"rendered":"<p>Wrinkles run through his face,<\/p>\n<p>riverbeds often flooded with tears.<\/p>\n<p>This line from when his son died,<\/p>\n<p>this one from years of labor,<\/p>\n<p>Here; it appeared on a rainy day<\/p>\n<p>at 15 left on the street.<\/p>\n<p>When his wife left for good,<\/p>\n<p>little creases filled in the gaps between lines,<\/p>\n<p>cobwebs in the space she occupied.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>In a face like this,<\/p>\n<p>beauty is not discovered.<\/p>\n<p>It is weathered, rusted, and distressed,<\/p>\n<p>until it&#8217;s unintelligible.<\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p>Then he smiles.<\/p>\n<p>And you see those furrows<\/p>\n<p>were worn away by smiles as well as frowns,<\/p>\n<p>That the bitterness of his face has not tainted the sweet of his eyes.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Wrinkles run through his face, riverbeds often flooded with tears. This line from when his son died, this one from years of labor, Here; it appeared on a rainy day at 15 left on the street. When his wife left for good, little creases filled in the gaps between lines, cobwebs in the space she&#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"jetpack_post_was_ever_published":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_access":"","_jetpack_dont_email_post_to_subs":false,"_jetpack_newsletter_tier_id":0,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paywalled_content":false,"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true,"jetpack_social_post_already_shared":false,"jetpack_social_options":{"image_generator_settings":{"template":"highway","default_image_id":0,"font":"","enabled":false},"version":2}},"categories":[6],"tags":[84,74,3,85],"class_list":["post-399","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-writings","tag-observationwimagination","tag-poem","tag-poetry","tag-writing"],"jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p4WcVY-6r","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/399","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=399"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/399\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":400,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/399\/revisions\/400"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=399"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=399"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/rasmusen.org\/special\/ameliajane\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=399"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}