Bed hair, more Yahoo
Serious than Medusa,
looks back at me from
the bathroom mirror
Normal for this hour,
spiked with
not-so-normal dreams
It can wait till the
coffee grounds
switch the light on
inside my head
The long filament of
my neck
coils out from the
pock-marked glass
The remembrance of
frozen cream,
petrified on the top
of the milk cans
on the icy doorsteps
of childhood
Inside me a feel a
giggle rising
I want to run to the
sandbox and play –
after another
caffeine hit
after I knead the
sinews in my shoulders
and stretch them out
again
They used to snap in
and out
like day old chewing
gum
Gummy-eyed in front
of the glass
I run my finger along
my jaw and under my chin
It feels like junket
But I see it’s
composed of steel,
set and determined
I am a strong-willed
youth
I want to backpack
across Europe,
guitar slung across
my right shoulder
Don’t mess with me -
you’ll see what
eighties girls are really made of
When I’ve taken my
pills
I’ll put on my
sneakers and hike the backroads
Frisking the bedside
table,
sliding my fingers
along the kitchen benches
I locate my glasses,
put them on,
look again in the
bathroom mirror
seeing my true
inheritance
I am an old woman
Lined
Be-jellied
Wobbling under the
weight of morning
For a moment I am sad
Defeated
Till I remember there
are other things I’ve inherited,
more important
things,
things that last,
growing stronger with
the years
And I stride from the
house
a warrior again
to
meet the day head-on