Vanity, Thy Name Is…

Fresh from a shower,

makeup not yet applied

the woman stood nude before

a full length mirror.

A day less than six months,

one day less than six months

from that day that brought

her closer to age fifty

than age forty-nine

Now into what might be

referred to as

“middle age,”

the woman remembered

what she had thought

about herself,

the woman remembered

how she had felt

about herself

a mere day earlier.

One day earlier,

when she was younger,

when she was closer to

age forty-nine

than age fifty,

her face,

her figure,

everything about her

was exactly as she wished;

she was beautiful!

She was beautiful!

She knew it every time

she looked in the mirror.

She knew it by the way people,

especially men,

looked at her,

she knew it by the way people,

especially men,

treated her.

But that was not,

so the woman thought,

That was not

as it would be now.

Looking in the full length mirror,

Now closer to age fifty

than age forty-nine,

looking in the full length mirror

her face appeared haggard,

her eyes shadowed,

her breasts sagged,

her hips and buttocks thicker

her stomach soft and

crossed with stretch marks.

Actually,

big busted,

the woman’s breasts had always sagged.

Actually,

the pregnancy caused

stretch marks had faded to hardly

noticeable lines across her abdomen.

Actually,

the woman’s stomach, hips and buttocks

were slightly larger and slightly rounder.

And yes,

The woman’s facial features had softened.

On this day,

one day closer to age fifty

than age forty-nine,

on this day,

in the woman’s mind,

the image reflected in the mirror,

what she saw,

what she could not accept

was the image of a mature woman.

In truth,

physically,

the woman was lovelier than ever.

©July 20, 2011 / Mark M. Lichterman