Sunday, November 23, 2008

A Super Hero contemplates 40

Her cape is ripped,
snagged on splinters, shredded by glass,
no longer flowing behind her in the wind,
faded from years of flying.
The shine rubbed off a long while ago.
Her sleek unitard has seen better days,
worn in several spots,
threadbare where she least needs it to be.
She doesn’t look quite the same in it,
but it’s black,
disguising flaws
and years of bad eating habits.
The thigh-high boots will have to go soon
though she doesn’t know how low-heeled clogs will go with this look.
Her feet just aren’t the same.

Her vision is failing.
She can’t see through walls as she used to.
They stop her cold, she gives in too easily.
Her steely grip is weakening from arthritis,
easily dropping things she’s been trying to hold on to.

Had Marvel or DC known her,
she would have remained beautiful, strong, powerful, young –
a force to fear.
In the mirror though, she is drained –
fine-lines earned from real work, long hours,
and endless worries.
She sighs, shrugs, downs her morning elixir,
brewed hot and strong,
and heads out, pulling at her tights,
fluffing out her long-flowing black hair,
(she still has that going)
and calls on her will to
get through another day.

3 comments:

PuertoVallartaGirl said...

I like it, it really pulled me in. Probably because it wasn't at all like fantasy. That is how my feet are, inthe 80's I was all about high heels all the way through the 90's and now... just ... can't ... do it... for more then a few hours, every once in awhile. My 55 pair of shoe collection is now.. 5.

Robin Easton said...

Oh Cassy, this is so well written. I actually found it very moving and beautiful. Do you know why? Because it's REAL! I like REAL sentiments, real people and real Life. So many times as women, as people, we're taught to keep up the image and be flawless. The older I get the more sick of that I get. I don't want to do IT any more (not ALL the time). I just want to be who and what I am.

So much of American culture is constantly pumping out the idea that we as woman are supposed to perfect, flawless, ageless, tireless, and so forth. We are NOT supposed to have wrinkles, be tired, have any gray hairs, heaven forbid if we are not pencil thin, or our nails are not long, manicured and colored, heaven forbid if we aren't wearing sexy (and tight) clothing (regardless that it's uncomfortable), or wearing sexy high heeled shoes and boots, and our makeup is on and flawless, and on and on.

Sometimes that is fun or nice, once in awhile, but it is not me 24 hours a day, or even every week, or even every month.

Thank you for writing from your heart and soul. I LIKE it. And I admire you. This touched me deeply.

Thank you Cassy,
Hugs to you,
Robin

Nardeeisms said...

Cassy, you ARE Superwoman!
Alicia Keys sings it best:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xK8t0gP4isE

- Nards

"Still when I'm a mess, still I put on a vest with an "S" on my chest...Oh, yes...I'm a SUPERWOMAN!"