I practice growing old gracefully.
I moisturize, don’t wear make-up,
long hair parts almost to the middle
of a face dappled with freckles.
All I need is my stickered-up guitar
and a few more folk songs,
gerbera daisies at my temple
and a black lab who sits beside me
for dusty miles in a fast truck.
We all choose scents to match our soul;
when I leave a room, this is mine,
with a hint of amaretto.


another beautiful piece Tara, again forcing the reader to indulge their senses with your imagery, love the black Labrador, my grandparents had one, such great dogs..




































I see washed up old women trying to maintain their youth all the time and I cringe - may I never end up like that! You're still beautiful though, so it's all good 












148 old applause
