A Woman at Forty (A Poem)

/ Katie

And anyway,
as old and as weathered and tired
as I ever get,
I hope I never stop looking up
at the moon and the stars and the clouds.
If I live to 100 or more,
I hope I wear every year and line,
every scar and gray hair and crow’s foot
with all the wonder and whimsy and
goddamn I told you so that I earned.
Because I wasn’t put on this planet to be quiet as a mouse
or pretty as a picture frozen in time.
I am a woman and I contain a whole world in me.
As much as I was made to nurture and to create and mend,
I wasn’t made to bend.
I was made to roar.
Cover your ears if you think it’s too loud.

19 thoughts on “A Woman at Forty (A Poem)”

Leave a Reply