On the occasion of my wedding anniversary
The rise of my breast, the curve of my belly,
The swerve of my hip, the sneer in my lip.
No more the perky young woman you met,
Nor even the anxious woman you wed
I am the nearly fifty year old,
Silver haired, sagging jowled, sharp of tongue and un-cowed.
The bearer of children and universes, am I,
Of troubles and triumphs, that my visage belies.
I encompass goddesses and all of their strengths,
From the depths of my soul, our futures are rent.
The lines encircling my mouth and my eyes,
Are the tracks of our marriage, our children, our lives.