Weathered

I see weathered in the mirror,
the purple Adirondack chairs are peeling after a single winter,
my face has endured so much more.
I'm disappointed in the paint job
but there is no doubt that my face is alos
showing its own version of peeling.
In the happiness survey, I mark my appearance
half way between attractive and ugly, I used to place
more to the right, not sliding left every year,
age does not typically add to beauty.
A weathered fence in Wyoming is shiny
and silver; I note how smooth as I lean against
her watching the horses running on the other side of the field.
their tails glisten in the wind and sun.