Skin

 True beauty can be found in the smile in an elderly lady’s eyes and in the wrinkles on her face. It is proof of a life well lived.

Skin

Her skin was a road map.

A biographical cover of her life.

She lifted her arm to the light and noticed

her skin was as fragile as a butterfly wing.

Now she could see her own map in 3D

The colours had changed she noted sadly, roads

on the map once blue were now purple, and

her skin was quite speckled with brown spots,

which were as soft and intricate as those on a hen’s egg,

so delicate, the shell encasing new life,

with hopes for the future, like she had once.

Now her skin had become like tissue;

a soft shroud enfolding a precious gift.

She had become the family heirloom, 

carefully wrapped in her skin

to be stored away for ever.

copyright  Diana Leighton October 2011