All the World’s a Stage

In the terminal
gate 37
she sits straight
small still and somber
such a narrow pinched face
it might better fit a child’s body
but she is
and she regrets it
well past fifty and sorry
obviously sorry to be getting older
so she paints a younger face on
her second-hand head
eyebrows painted on flat forehead flesh
above blue eye shadow and black mascara
but the eyes don’t take the prize
the mouth does
a perfect brown red wax
with a thin line all around
a painted China death mask
faintly reminiscent of Lenin
lying there under the dim light
except for the clown colors
and this one moves
eyes alert for any quick change
a chance maybe
to show how young
and tight
everything is
everybody else may sag and wrinkle
yes sir look around and see for yourself
but not her
always waiting for the cue
every move a rehearsal
for the big moment
with an occasional small performance
and her skull must be a little bitty one
which makes me wonder
what will it look like
with all the powder paint
and yes
even flesh
gone?

Aiming my camera at the lady in the airport terminal was out of the question. That was yesterday before boarding flight 1749. Today's pictures are from the Davids' back yard in San Diego