Fearful of dressing too youthful
Cautious not to look like my mother
I’m stuck in the twilight zone of middle age

Neither young nor old
I straddle a delicate line
Somewhere between stilettos and orthopedics

Lately I feel, well, matronly
My curves have become more generous
Reubens would have loved me

My body slides downward like slow moving lava
Nothing is where it used to be
My lap is full of me whenever I sit

Mid-life does have its own rewards
Elderly men think I’m a babe
And gray is the new blonde