a delicate, salty mist covers my arms;
it’s just-right-warm on the beach,
a light breeze blowing in from the east,
fanning my hair around my neck;
I walk quickly, arms pumping—just enough
to be called power walking;
I can’t help but notice the younger crowd—
achingly, exquisitely beautiful;
I would say, post-menopause, that I miss my abs,
but truth is, I never had them,
at least I don’t think so.
I wonder what they see when they look at me,
a late-fifties woman wearing a t-shirt, shorts
and baseball cap.
Actually, they probably don’t see me at all.
They are sheltered, for now—
sanguine
in their sun-kissed bodies, decades away
from skin cancer screenings and wrinkles
Arvilla Fee lives in Dayton, Ohio. She has published poetry in numerous presses, including Calliope, North of Oxford, Rat’s Ass Review, Mudlark, and others. Her poetry books, The Human Side and This is Life, are available on Amazon. Arvilla’s mantra: write to make connections. To learn more, visit her website: https://soulpoetry7.com
