see me

I am not like them
the ladies
in the latest fashion
all fake tan
and heels
and straighteners

I could not pull it off

but am I less
because of
my failure
to be part
of their world?

would they look at me
if I had their
stylish gloss?

I stare at my reflection
and it’s all me
nothing between us
curves and plain skin
a few extra pounds
my forty years
of living here exposed
and I wonder
if it’s good enough
to make me

of respect

this is it
it’s all
that I have
will you see
my truth?

mist fashions

in the hills
the trees wear mist shawls
draped over their bony shoulders
tucked up to their lichen covered ears

in the valleys
the trees wear mist skirts
dragging low on the ground
wrapped round stiff legs that ache with cold

by the sea
the trees wear mist burqas
covered up from head to toe
angles softened and precious buds hid safe