Anchorwoman
She knowingly
sat at her well lit
dressing table
in her morning moments
of natural beauty.
Each line
on her gentle face
has its own story,
remembering fondly,
a soul treasured duty.
The days when
a deft and practiced
application of
rouge, lipstick and
a light brushing
of blush
live on a calendar
page long since
thrown away.
Today similar coverage
cannot be achieved
in a rush.
The television world
she must step
out into is not
accepting of
time worn beauty
that presents no splash.
In the completive
workplace there
smacks reality,
aging gracefully
could be career ending,
how rash.
She sighs a
deep sigh and
ruminates to herself
just how simple
it must be to have
been born a man.
A quick shower
and close shave
does the trick,
a reality check
finds an eyebrow pencil
in her hand.
These days of
high definition
are a wake up call,
knowing younger,
hungry women
wait in the wings.
When that red light
on the camera glows
she can’t hide,
it matters little
the years of experience
she brings.
Her co-anchor
is seasoned, with
grey in his hair.
Is it a double standard?
On that you can
safely make book.
Even sweet Mary Hart
watches her back
these days,
knowing there’s
perky young things with
a fresher look.
I’ve seen it so often
on the local
morning newscast
as women who’ve
felt like family
feel reality’s stinger.
When the camera
no longer loves them,
as it once did,
they find they’re
put in the field, unfairly
downgraded to
on the scene stringer.
Is it fair, I think not,
but it’s the
nature of the game,
the ravages of time
and living life appear
on every face.
She must
know going in to enjoy
what she has now...
ingénues are
lining up
to take her place.
Submitted for the Fill in the Blank challenge
“in her _______beauty”
By AlwaysMyWords
© 2010 AlwaysMyWords
(All rights reserved)
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