Persona

It was an impulse stifled
by uncertainty. Should I tell her
how beautiful she appeared to
me, a grandmother who believes
in frank assessment and 
compliments where they are due?
The hesitation lies in perception
the fear of appearing patronizing
to this young woman who appears
sixteen but is thirty, her face
an exquisite surveyed map of
femininity, her hair and garb
pure Butch. Her open smile
invites calm and conversation.
Clearly, she is comfortable with
herself, and with me as well.
And I should be, also. She is
in the military for the long haul
far from her rural home
carrying her identity with ease
pleasant and firm, her large
brindle hound at her feet
obedient to her commands
issued with patience and affection
and my voice is stilled, the
compliment unstated, though my
admiration remains unstifled.