ElderChicks

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.

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By Lucia Blinn (Poet and author of Lucia, Passing for Normal and Lucia, Navigating the Night)