the oldest versions are stacked
like layers of dermis, hardened
over years that became decades
until middle age found me
counting the silver strands that shine
like falling stars across the lusterless surface
of my fossilized youth
my first two decades lie frozen
within the merciless amber of time
thin as parchment
delicate as spun sugar, disintegrating
beneath the droplets of years
by my third decade I basked
in the comfort of motherhood
babies in tow, each season a gift
alight with the glimmer
of a connected whole
for the first time, I was more than myself
no longer young, but still young enough
to feel life’s shine