FebulousFebruary 2026: The Old Photograph

The Old Photograph

Well look at her —

me, forty years ago,

hair like a shampoo advert

and trousers so tight

I’m amazed I survived the decade.

There I am,

posing like I invented confidence,

chin up, chest out,

absolutely certain the world

was lucky to have me.

And who’s that next to me?

Oh yes —

the ex I swore was “the one”

for at least three whole weeks.

Bless him.

He aged like milk,

I aged like a fine wine

(so I tell myself).

My friends said I was dramatic.

I wasn’t dramatic.

I was expressive.

There’s a difference —

and this photo proves it.

Look at that smile.

Look at those legs.

Look at that shirt

that could blind a small village.

Ah, youth.

I miss the energy,

not the decisions.

Still, I raise a glass

to that bold, hopeful,

slightly ridiculous man.

He had no idea

what a fabulous old queen

he’d grow into.

David, Glasgow