Rear-view Mirror

Precious and red –

describes my hair far better

than my heart.

My hair glistens, but the other has scars –

two divorces,

one bully of an ex-husband,

failed lovers,

lies, and even friends carved a few gashes.

But in the rearview mirror

of my new used car, I see a lighter image –

a smiling woman

who has forgotten about the lover

who never acknowledged her,

or the friend who spread lies because she could.

It’s not there in the mirror.

That woman is free, crowned in sun light.

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