These eyes that look back
have been taught to notice 
the flaws—chin succumbing 
to gravity, deep forehead lines, 
body holding extra weight 
like its life depends on it. How 
to accept all of this? How to turn 
the focus toward marvel—
marvel at how hands type 
letters that become love notes, 
at how ears hear the jingle of daughters’ 
laughter, at the heart that beats 
its way through another day, marvel
at how words rise from somewhere
inside and land here onto 
the page—like snowflakes 
on the tongue, already melting,
melting.