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The Musings of a Middle-Aged Woman
One year closer to over-ripe
I study the mirror before me for signs of my spoilage
clues I will be taken off the shelf,
discounted by overzealous labelers,
transferred to a bin at the back of the store,
and ignored by those with discerning taste.
How can it be when I feel so young
and still yearn to embrace
the giddiness and euphoria of my past?
A time when beauty unfairly opened doors,
and when the passion of my beliefs
made answers simple?
Nothing now seems as clear, and judgment less hurried,
the balance of right and wrong constantly shifting,
as I stand in the vast chasm of middle-age.
Behind me, the passionate rage and conviction of youth
burning my eyes raw,
and in the distance, a decline I am not yet ready to embrace.
Learn more about this author, Linda Gallant Potts.
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Poetry: Looking in the mirror
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