Been Here A While

I watched each wrinkle crawl between my eyebrows

like the roots of a baby vine,

starting to sprawl and stretch its limbs

across my face and down my throat

to make sure the world knows

I’ve been here a while.

I’ve noticed the bags under my eyes

outstay their welcome,

like an annoying house guest

who can’t take a hint.

For eons and seasons

between nursings and meetings and date nights

I’ve creamed and iced and cucumbered,

coaxing them to take a hike.

They chuckle with their dark circled smile,

knowing they’re here to stay.

What if I embraced the regal crone,

long silver strands framing

my sun-spotted, laugh-lined face,

knowing I’m not here

to prove a damn thing

to the world.

Proud I’ve earned

each sign of age,

etched by moments where nothing mattered

but the sun on my shoulders,

a friend’s chuckle echoing mine,

and the beat of the music

painting a smile on my face

so wide it invited the crinkles

to take up permanent residence

around my eyes.