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Poetry

We Exist

I exist.

I am twenty years older

Than twenty-nine.

I am not

Invisible

Nor did I

Dissolve when

I turned forty.

I exist.

I am one

Of millions.

We are not

Invisible

Nor did we

Vanish when we

Turned forty.

We exist.

We’ve been

Kicked and ignored,

Shamed and judged,

Inconsequentially consequential,

Deemed too old for the media’s

Ideal demographic,

But

We are

Ideal.

We exist.

We are childless

And child full,

Mother Earth and a

Mother of pearl,

We yearn

And cry

And hope

And nurture

And dream

And grow.

We exist.

Underneath the

Sophisticated silvers

And wrinkles of wisdom

A little girl gleefully glows.

She scampers

Through the dewy grass

And twirls around and around

With her arms open wide,

Her palms facing the sky,

As her pigtails and ponytails

Stretch out straight from spinning.

She never disappeared.

It’s time for her

To play again.

It’s her time

To shine.

She exists.

Together we consume our

Four tea and fifth tea

And sixth tea

And beyond.

I am enough.

We are enough.

We exist.

We are

Beautifully

Seasoned

Formidably

Authentic

Plentifully

Savvy

Wise and

Worthy.

We are

Invincible,

Not

Invisible.

We

Exist.

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by jillocone

I am a senior contributor/editor for Jersey Shore Magazine and several Jersey Shore Publications annual guidebooks. When I’m not writing or editing, you might find me in a classroom teaching journalism, searching for beach treasures, making my nieces and nephews laugh, or making memories with my husband, family, and friends.


Website

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