Makeover (poem #13)

‘You look different to how you did then’-
You say.
‘But I can’t put my finger on how, or why.
Perhaps it’s your glasses, or maybe your hair-
Or have you put on some weight round the thighs?’
You could be right.
But maybe you’re seeing
the life lessons that have sunk into my skin,
and the stories that live and shine my eyes,
the good feelings that often prevail these days,
hidden in small, contended sighs.
The experience that hides itself under my hair-
it may not be visible, but I know it’s there.
That I care less about things that don’t matter,
and more about the things that do.
That I am looking at you with a smile,
rather than trying to avoid your gaze-
and that I am constantly amazed
by the ways we can grow,
and subtly change.
‘Maybe’,
You say.
‘Or it might just be your hair.’
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