I understand the way
I seem, soft to your firm
youth, thin to your new
and swaggering expertise
in things I used to know
but lost. Like you,
I didn’t expect to find
me here, stooping
from the weight
of things you have yet
to acquire. But let me
rest here a minute,
savor your beauty that blinds
raw and brazen like a sharp
burst of flavor, sweet
and salty on my tongue.
A published author of fiction, nonfiction, and poetry, she works in university administration. She has two sons, a husband, and a new Scottish Terrier, Maggie that is helping her through the coronavirus lockdown. After a short move to Los Angeles, she is back home in Tampa, Florida where she currently is working on a short story collection, a collection of poems about her time in LA, and a novel set in Tampa. Connect with her on Twitter @sharonleesnow