Not young...not old

not fat...not thin

not discontent or restless

and yet,  not still crazy in love with him.

Where am I...has it been twenty years

and then there's being a grandparent...or not being one

could that be part of my fears?

Should I still wear red polish?

Is this skirt too short...my hair too long

for this no-where age I am?

Am I looking like my mother...

that happens...I've heard that it can.

He looks at me...I look at him...

not young,,,not old

not fat...not trim.

Could it be that he's floundering

in this same strange place

it seems i woke up in.