For age is opportunity, no less than youth itself, though in another dress. Henry W. Longfellow

How old is too old

for straight back hair

with a crimson streak dangling

down past my butt, a nose ring

and a blue tattoo of my lover’s name?

For skinny miniskirts,

studded leather boots

and cheap metal bracelets

clanging up my arms

in a new direction?

For a Marilyn Monroe beauty mark,

learning the Cat Daddy

and a round-off back hand-spring?

There are magic numbers I suspect.

18, 21, 65

It’s a slippery slope.

But the asters in my garden

bloom until frost

showy pinks, reds,

purples, blues and whites

and Colonel Sanders started slinging

finger-lickin’ chicken long after

working on a railroad

practicing law

fighting fires

selling insurance

piloting a ferryboat,

peddling tires

and pumping gas.

A speech/language pathologist currently working with preschoolers and adult literacy students, Millman has had poems published in the U.S. 1 Summer Fiction issue, US1 Worksheets, Off the Coast, the Sow’s Ear, and other literary journals. Her first collection, ‘Adjust Speed to Weather’ is forthcoming.

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