From my just finished, not yet published book, Gravity Wins*
*And Other Older, Wiser Conversations with God
Don’t Call Me Honey
I don’t want the cashier calling me dear
And the pharmacist calling me honey
I don’t want to be asked if I’m up to the task
Of loading my car
If the parking’s too far.
Just take my money.
As you lean in to pour my vintage de jour
You call me young lady and wink
My age was unsung, when I really was young
But I know what I am
And how long I’ve been
So please, server, just leave the drink.
Oh, don’t patronize me
Don’t dare minimize me
I still do aerobics and jog
I lift eight pound barbells
Have most of my marbles
My head is not lost in a fog
My roots are still dark and I know how to park
I Facebook and iPhone and tweet
Sometimes on occasion, when I’m feeling brazen
My guy and I turn up the heat.
So please hold that pity
You pass off as witty
At my age I’m doing just fine
I’m nobody’s fool
This “young lady” is cool
So shut up and just pour the wine.