My Body

My body is a mountainous landscape,

Full of summits and gorges.

Creases form and disappear as I move,

While some wrinkles are indefinite.

It settles into a chair, establishing itself

As a foreign feature, the waiting unknown.

Then it stretches and elongates,

Muscles flex and bone snap into place.

It moves in a bovine shuffle,

Slowly walking across the carpet.

My body is a feature of loneliness,

Yet it tumbles over in company.

People say my body needs to change,

And it is changing, subtly

But at its own unhurried gait.

It takes months to remove the harshness

And years to recapture its forgotten beauty.

But I move along, treading the floorboards

And dancing to my own internal symphony.


© 2017 Valerie Hathaway

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