Still Turning Heads
I’ve loved a sorcerer for 45 years. When we’re together, I’m 19 again — young and beautiful.
Either he’s secretly taking acting classes or is sincere when he says, “You look amazing.” I don’t much care which.
The moment he leaves, I turn back into an old crone.
Yesterday we had a conversation about hair. Graying is my concern, while my love mused about his balding patch. We took photos of the backs of one another’s heads.
I pulled up the pictures. With the same sense of wonder, we both said, “Oh wow.”
He needn’t worry. I still see the gorgeous man I married more than four decades ago.
I’ve been prideful about never coloring my hair. But forever’s a long time.
Thanks for reading! Cindy Shore Smith