Me
The body people never see
Is the one I keep inside of me.
I know they see me getting old,
With hair no longer quite so gold,
Perhaps my back is not as straight.
Maybe they see I have to wait
And walk, not run, across the street
To see a friend I want to meet.
My face has wrinkles now, I know,
Some things have sagged a bit below,
But this is not the one I see.
Inside my mind, it isn’t me!
When I’m not looking in the glass
I never feel the years have passed.
The inner me says I could run
Around the block, and, just for fun,
Ride my bike ’til twilight’s calling -
Or climb a tree, no fear of falling!
My hands, of course, do not have spots
Or knuckles swollen into knots.
Instead, a youngish woman’s form,
Not yet assailed by age’s storm,
Is lithe and not yet bowed by years.
So here’s to the inside me with cheers!
Copyright © Barbara Peckham | Year Posted 2021
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