The Puzzle Of Not Being What I Want To Be

Given a choice I would be taller, willowy, and scented like honey. I would have lips that had just kissed Cupid. My eyes would glimmer like twin pools of a summer sky. My hair would be sunshine. My eyebrows would be arched like the wings of a bird in flight. I would have dimpled hands and feet without blemish. My body would gleam with young health like a water nymph at play.


To not be what I want to be is puzzling. It seems mean. And now I am old, and what charms I might have had, have escaped me, which is even meaner.

Caption: Old Me And My Cane Puzzle

by Annmarie Throckmorton 2018

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