Women don’t sweat, they glow.
said my Auntie, who died at seventy,
a spinster who only had one lover—
ever.

This winter, the cold is sporadic.
This winter everyone sweats.
My old Auntie would be shocked.

When folks talk about
“the wisdom of age,”
they should be talking about
“the wisdom of persistence,”

tenacity being more useful
than understanding,
which barely comes to us at all
no matter our age.

a version in Unlikely Stories