NaPoWriMo #5: overheard

Last week the prompt at Read Write Poem was "overheard". I am a homebody most of the time, and I kept forgetting to eavesdrop on the limited occasions when I was out of the house. So it didn't happen until yesterday when I was in the locker room at the pool that I finally remembered to eavesdrop on two little old ladies talking about different brands of body wash and lotion. I couldn't see them because I was in a changing stall and was trying to guess if I would recognize them from the pool or if they had just arrived.

I love the older women at the community pool; they're all very matter of fact and accepting of their bodies and just go about their business without a second glance at anyone else. Instead of concentrating on the lotion conversation, I started to think about modesty and how people can eavesdrop just in the way they look at each other, too. Even a furtive glance can be invasive if someone is judging. So the poem I wrote took a completely different direction from what I first overheard, but the prompt was a good inspiration. And by the time I was done changing, the lotion ladies were gone.


The Lost Art of Modesty

I’m a not-so-secret locker room
prude though you might be
surprised to know it’s not about
shame for me as I’ve grown grateful
with age for a body doing all
I ask with few complaints
and soft ones at that
the least I can do is forgive flaws not
render them common after an
hour of laps without even
having to catch my breath I can
stride confidently flaunting
every extra pound and inch
lycra doesn’t lie
but to expose more would
cheapen me disrespect this temple so
discreet I retreat to my own
private stall shielding my most
sacred parts and after emerging I
will do the same for you by
averting my eyes though
in the pool I saw enough to
know we both belong
to the sisterhood of cellulite.