A woman gathering wildflowers on the hilltop
Thinks on her fleeting days of youth
Awestruck by the sheer evolution of self
And how quickly the physical structure starts to erode
Crumbling like ancient ruins
That have seen better days.
Knees that creak like old doorframe
And hips resembling years of childbearing
She stays spry on her feet
Though they give her reason to pain.
There in the reflection
Near the banks of a river running through vast woods
Standing for what seems like forever
Smiles back a girl
With flowing hair and softer skin
Not yet weathered by life’s storms.
It is but a number, she thinks aloud
And carries on.