She shuts the door firmly behind her
Closing out the world
And leaving the worries of the day
On the other side.
This is her oasis,
This small room
With its commode and sink
And the claw-footed tub
Made for soaking.
She turns the knobs
That release the water,
Pausing to adjust the temperature
Before adding a generous handful
Of fragrant bath salts,
Then turns to face the mirror
As the tub fills
And removes the robe
Covering her nudity.
No longer a girl,
The glass refects back
The form of a woman full grown;
Soft and rounded,
Her hair short and tousled,
She is proud and serene,
And at ease within herself.
She does not fear aging
But welcomes the wisdom
Experience brings
And accepts the changes
That come with time.
Her fingers lightly trace
The fading lumpectomy scar
Along one breast
Then down the caesarian scar
Bisecting her belly,
Remembering the fear
That accompanied each surgery,
Before considering the laugh lines
Radiating out
From her clear, blue eyes.
In every way
Life had left its marks on her
But rather than hate them
She regards them as badges,
Proof of having lived it
With integrity and passion.