You might write him off as an old codger,
but one tropical night on the shore
of the Gulf of Mexico, a friend
of a friend came by to be introduced.
Alfred, all dapper five feet of him,
set his twinkling blues on me and wanted
to know. Are you as sexy as your name?
I smiled shyly.
Tell me. Are you?
Well …
I thought so.
Where’s your wife?
Don’t have one, he winked. Already killed two.
The octogenarian, Florette, who walks with a cane
but never without makeup, perfume and jewels,
reported a recent flirtation over the lettuces—
He, forty years her junior; she, still mad for her Joe.
The mother of another chum found her third husband,
this, the one of her dreams, at nearly ninety.
You see, children, the night is young.
And we are ever beautiful.
[Leave a comment here.]
By Lucia Blinn (Poet and author of Lucia, Passing for Normal and Lucia, Navigating the Night)
Beauty doesn’t fade in a beautiful person. Why do we feel so vulnerable as we age? Lucia, your poetry is incredibly powerful. I look forward to reading more.
Hi Lucia – yours in one of those “takes my breath away” posts.
Just lovely!
You are my hero (hero-ess?)
Great little poem, Lucia!