How We Have to be

We pass between the cypresses, incongruous,
To say the least: an almost ghastly, graying man,
Who limps and leans upon a cane, yet walks
Beside a former dancer, lithe and young, light
On her feet. We grasp each other's arms
And hands, and seem to talk incessantly,
And have made clear to all who know us
That we won't be separated, that we can't be
Kept apart. There's something neither one of us
Can name which welds us. We are one,
And, though we rarely are together, when we are,
We're hand in hand at foodstands, bus stops,
Under trees, incongruous in others' eyes,
But, as the years have taught us, simply how
We have to be.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 61 times
Written on 2018-08-23 at 02:15

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