You look at me and
see a gray body bloated with memories,
wrinkled by the worries of
a life too well remembered
You see no beauty in
the bulk of my weight, hips that
have carried our children into
this dusty, drought-weary world
little ones who gaze at
their mother through elephant-thick eyelashes and
see only the fierce matronly
love beneath the rough hide
--
Creative Bloomings prompt #166 - animal house
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