black as the night sky
brown as flapjacks buttered and syrupy
peach as a peach farm tree
red as my son’s skinned knee
thick as an alligator
thin as a high-school waiter
acned and wrinkled
old and pickled
fresh as a baby’s bottom
fallen as the leaves in autumn
every mole, rash and blush
is lush with life
and hasn’t been touched
by a doctor’s knife
aging isn’t flawless
it’s beautiful