Ripening
by Joanne McCarthy
It is sad to grow old but nice to ripen
--Brigitte Bardot
When she regretted was her skim,
folding in on itself like fabric,
elasticity gone.
Life-juice that plumped her cheeks disappeared,
wrinkles cast their fine net across her face,
laugh-lined her mouth.
Her eyes deepened,
AThe Hairdress warned her about the gray.
Leave it, she said, I want to see
what nature will do.
What nature did was remind her that ripeness
is all, that autumn is the richest season,
that preparing for snow means building a shelter,
that warmth within withstands
whatever winter howls without
When the baby laughed,
reach for her breast
even though milk had been gone for years,
she remembered sweet burdens of motherhood
relinquished them gladly,
her destiny now another--grandmother,
wise woman, matriarch.
The brain holds whan I am
she said, knowing then that body was always hers
The heart hold what I would be
the womb can rest.
She saw her life, and knew that it was good
Taken from the book
If I had my life to live over
Editd by Sandra Haldeman Martz
Papier Mache Press--Watsonville, California 1992
