Ruth Schreiber

Forty-five

This is a respectable age to be
no longer ‘just a pretty face’
no longer eyed for ‘one thing only’,
there are others, now, for that.
I can enjoy my body more
now that it’s scarred and lined and used,
it fits me better.
It takes work to keep it firm,
the skin smooth, the muscles taut.
My stomach will never be flat again
and the veins on my hands are always large
and always blue
and always sticking out.
Does it matter?
They are good hands, they work
and love and care.
The rings
are unimportant.