Cupid Uses a Walker Now

I see the look which, doubtless, is in my own
Eyes in hers, and sigh. Have we become so old?
Upon a faultless afternoon, alone among a
Crowd which presses close, but hasn't
Understood that we would seem to be in love,
I gaze in wonder at the face which tries, but
Doesn't turn away. I smile. I would have her
Stay when all the others have to leave, and I'm
Convinced that this is what she'd choose to do
If not...if not for caution's calls. We're turtles
Now, in heavy shells, aware that love, for all
Its virtues, doesn't last, and we're accountants,
Adding up what we could gain, subtracting
From it what we'd stand to lose, the latter
Always more. The crowd has made its plans
To go. She gathers up her things and follows
It beyond my iron gate. She turns once more,
And weakly waves. She senses all that might
Have been, but, like me, isn't brave enough to
Take the steps to let it be. I see that in her eyes.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 21 times
Written on 2011-06-27 at 01:29

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