A Greek Goddess is now an ancient artifact.
You can’t truly walk a life in vain worried about the possibility of veins, can you?
I find it novel, a woman with indentation, crease and curve looking like a life having lived.
A matriarch of ten grows a garden – her hands stiff, scarred and arthritic – makes some heaven out of soup bowls -and keeps a happy family fat.
Real women who fight their days without fear
wave their flabby arms like wings
never missing the chance to crease a laugh line.
That’s an admiration, not an artifact.