Sitting in my car the other afternoon,
I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror
And saw the fine imprints of laughter
Radiating from the corners of my eyes.
We had talked for hours
About errant uncles and new lovers
About biblical myths and
Building the framework for our dreams.
We talked about getting older,
How it isn’t easy as a woman,
How our youthful excesses aged us,
About the quality of our skin.
We laughed ruefully at this,
With a little mourning in our smiles.
But when I saw the evidence of our late lunch
Remembered delicately on my face,
I was grateful for the yielding of age,
And the many mappings of our lives.