Voices on the Wind Voices on Aging
Old Woman at the Mirror by Kathy Lohrum Cotton She smiles into her morning mirror, thinking, There is, somewhere, an old man whose hands, recalling the beautiful swell of young breasts, would find this low and sagging curve beautiful still and would wisely close his eyes to scars and potholed thighs. There is, somewhere, an old man looking in his morning mirror thinking that his shoulders are still broad and his rugged grey beard handsome; that the manhood hidden beneath the mound of his round middle can still be lit—fired up like his burled pipe packed thick with Prince Albert, turned to heat and sultry smoke with the spark of a little diamond-shaped pill from the amber bottle by his basin. And now he’s smiling into his mirror, yearning for firm, young breasts, and the old fool doesn’t imagine how beautiful an old woman can be.