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I don’t concern myself with wrinkles now that I have

started drawing eyebrows.

Some days my eyebrows are movie star right

so high in the arched places.

It’s like I am looking down my nose from a cliff.

How do you do?

One day my eyebrows didn’t match each other

when my daughter was frightened by an angry man.

I noticed this only while driving to a party of my

young and former colleagues, who no doubt thought

what did she do?

On easy days when I don’t think about those brows

too much they look like the surface of round hills and

I look silly like a muppet.

On those days I have seen children smile at me

like sparkly goo.

I like you too.

On hard days the lines may be too thick like underlined

words that need correction.

They say, pay attention!

Do as I do!

But it is still worth the making up

because the waking up reveals a

part of me that’s vanished now

a naked speechless brow and

I’m not ready yet

to take a silent bow.


Susan Shea is a retired school psychologist who was raised in New York City. Since

she has returned to writing poetry this year, her poetry has been accepted in a few

dozen publications, including Feminine Collective, Ekstasis, Persimmon Tree

Literary Magazine, and The Avalon Literary Review.

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