One of my favourite poems, musing on womanhood and the stages of maiden, mother and crone with cycles of vanity and ageing.

When I first read this poem as a 23yo English Studies undergrad, I melodramatically identified with it, from the perspective of a struggling young mother and writer in a brutal marriage.

Far too closely..... I've had my head in the gas oven in a metaphorical sense far too often as I struggled with self esteem and finding my way in the world.

Now I'm 50.

I've survived this long.

I'm reconciled and at peace with anything my mirror shows me.

Thanks for listening.