Dedicated to all women of a certain age:

The Stare

The woman sadly turns to the mirror
eyeing the deep lines that etch her face and neck
Her eyes travel down the jiggly fat under her arms
and the bulges around her waist and stomach
With a deep sigh she mutters, “who cares?
I am old and alone in my sorrows.”

Dejected, she bends down, searches her mind
Tears flowed through the ridges on her face
Slowly, she raises her head in defiance
and shouts, “I care!”

She gets up, gets dressed up,
Puts on lipstick, eyeliner,
a bit of eyeshadow and some powder,
Wears pearls around her neck
And the transformation began.
“Yes”, she says, “I care!”

Copyright March 11, 2016

Cynthia Angeles