BODY IMAGE Poem: Young Lady, by Holly Tannen

Yesterday morning I drove to Fort Bragg
With my African basket and recycled bag.
Fresh out of chocolate! I had to get more,
“Good morning, young lady,” said the man in the store.

Should I forgive him because of his youth?
No, I think it’s better that he learn the truth.
“I’ll not be cajoled by your flattering tongue,
I am not a lady and I am not young.

“One month ago I turned seventy-two
I’ll bet I’m thirty years older than you.
I’m losing my teeth and I’m losing my hair,
And now I’ve lost my bifocals, I don’t know where.

“I live surrounded by things I can’t find
But that doesn’t mean that I’m losing my mind.
I know where it is: it’s right here in my head
And I plan to keep using it till I am dead.

“Now I’ve got my chocolate, I’ll be on my way
I’ve enjoyed talking with you here today.
I’ve made myself clear? I don’t need to say more?”
“Sure thing, young lady,” said the man in the store.