When I was young I would surely sneer
At a guy who’d remark on the shape of my rear
When the boys gave me an admiring whistle
I’d stare them down. It made me bristle
In days gone by I would surely resent
What I now construe as a compliment
If my response to your wink
Seems uncharitably hateful
Secretly, my dear,
I’m infinitely grateful!
Geraldine Forer Spagnoli