sept. 28, 2013

My piece published in the 2013 We'Moon journal is the poem this week. Unfortunately, their excerpted version eliminates the gritty essence of it, but I've included it here.

The Beauty of a Body Growing Old

 It's been called ugly
the shape a woman's body takes
when her leaves change color
silvery hues
golden sallow
pigment returning to the earth
rooting her firmly
into herself

breasts, belly and buttocks
fullness of ripened fruits
hanging heavy and low
seduced by the earth
calling her back

creases of joy
of pain
experiences
etchings of life lived
herself she shows the world

skin sagging
pulled down by the weight
of the seasons through the years
towards the earth
grounding her
into her power
into her wisdom
with the firmness of stone

This rush
the urgency with fervor
to cover it up
chemical colors
staining silver strands
obliterating their scintillation
bacterial injections
freezing furrowed brows
forcing expressions to cease
a smile perceived as hideous

lotions, potions, serums
to extract, to conceal, to plump
razors searing through skin
invading the dermis
interrupting the process
disrespecting the beauty
of a body growing old.