In the Ladies' Fitting Room

We look in the mirror, each line reminding

us of how quickly time is slipping through.

We each tell the other, I still feel young, or

Fifty is the new thirty. We still have time.

Secretly we think, How much longer can I show

cleavage? When is death more likely than finding

a partner? Am I doomed to grow fat and dowdy?

We each tell the other, We still have time.

©2011 R.M. Talbot

This is my response to Poetry Picnic Week 8: Friends, Relationships, and Everyone Around. A shopping trip a couple of years ago with my beautiful best friend Glenna provided the inspiration.