Times were when contemplating
who and what I am
was too painful to imagine.
Now, though, I make it a practice
to look at myself — inside and out —
often…not just daily but repeatedly
day in and day out, somewhat like
when on diets I would weigh myself
obsessively. Not that self examination
has become some sick obsession,
though. Instead I live in health
inside out, mental and physical.
Sixteen years ago I weighed
three hundred pounds and fell around
as often as I walked around.
My size twenty-eights
have become twelves,
my inability to answer a question
about what I believe or want
without instead responding for my man
has faded away to a true understanding
that what he thinks of me
is none of my business,
that the best thing I can do for him
is care for me… I have become a senior,
third from oldest of all my close kin.
And my portrait of myself
most the time wears a grin.