Patina, Rust, and Wishful Thinking

The "Instructions to My Mother" become by poem's end directives to the reader implying some reflection on their own aging. We are invited to avoid pondering about decay and focus on a fine patina.

And never tell me
I'm 'getting grey,'
but that I am wise in skin,
sturdy-minded in bone and
beautywise in the ways of old women.
Never immune to flattery

Marilyn Dumont. A Really Good Brown Girl.

And so for day 290