Alumni
all home in a room.
Each
face that I’ll see
Like
a stranger to me
As
I will be to them, I assume.
I
haven’t seen most now for years.
We’ve
traveled in different spheres.
So
then why should I care
What
I look like or wear
To
this jury of long-ago peers?
Yet,
preparing before it will start
I
get dressed and make-up for the part,
Though
my face on the screen
Will
look less like a teen
Than
an image no lens can outsmart.
In
the mirror, I see what I know
But
the camera makes each wrinkle grow.
Still,
I’m living my life –
Nana,
friend, mom and wife
So
my aging is quite apropos.
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