I am
built more for comfort
Than for
speed,
At
sixty-five I have become
Zaftig
Which is
not to say fat.
I miss
my waist.
It has
expanded to unrecognizable
Girth.
It is
out of control, and growing
More
unmanageable every year.
My
girlish figure has
Taken a
powder, rude tramp.
I wish I
didn’t mind,
But I
do.
I do.
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