By Lois Batchelor Howard
Palm Springs Branch, California
Over its frame
my skin alligators
downward and outward
long unstopping skinny lines
so close to each other
drooping, sagging into air
shaking, moving, wobbling
vying to make a new fabric
much like corduroy
loosely wrapping and wrinkling
the back and front of arms.
Were I to wear a sleeveless dress
and perform playing a violin
listeners could not concentrate
on the beauty of the music
for they would be too immersed
in watching a sack of skin
sashaying forth into space.
I know; when young
I was audience to this
never thinking
I would be changing places
I crocodile myself
away from the mirror
wear long sleeves
and with no recourse
laugh.
Wow, is this a true image of our aging skin.!! Thanks for posting it
Thank you for an early morning giggle.
INTERESTINGLY SCAREY.
THE ONLY WAY TO KEEP FROM GROWING OLD IS
DYING WHEN YOU’RE YOUNG!
I’LL TAKE THE CROC LINES.
NICE JOB.
Lois, you have created another marvelous winner! Your creative poetry writing talent is totally amazing! This poem was such fun to read! You put another smile on my face!
I love the phrase “I crocodile myself.” Unfortunately I also notice these irritating lines appearing on arms and legs. Ah Well, getting old is better than the alternative. I do look forward to Paradise but am not yet ready to die!!!
Very expressive of a sad condition we hate.
BRAVA Lois! 🙂 BRAVA! xoxo
Loved this poem! Kind of relatable.
Time for U & I to exercise stretchedout arm circles
I too had no recourse than to laugh because of your poem. Thank you!