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.
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