Disconnect

A high school reunion on Zoom; Alumni all home in a room. Each face that I’ll see Like a stranger to me As I will be to them, I assume. I haven’t seen most now for years. We’ve traveled in different spheres. So then why should I care What I look like or wear To this jury of long-ago peers? Yet, preparing before it will start I get dressed and make-up for the part, Though my face on the screen Will look less like a teen Than an image no lens can outsmart. In the mirror, I see what I know But the camera makes each wrinkle grow. Still, I’m living my life – Nana, friend, mom and wife So my aging is quite apropos.