No Longer the Callow Swain

Would I pant for you, Melinda, if not
For this torrid sun? Would I, almost
Three times your age, possess a cooler,
Clearer head, if it was autumn? I don't
Know. I still would see you stalk this
Store with perfect skin and nerdy glasses,
Still would thrill to watch you turn to
Walk away, and wonder, has a better
Backside ever been? It's doubtful,
I say, yet I know a man three times
Your age is old. A world sees what I
Am seeing, so, though I may make
So bold as to suggest we go to dinner,
I suspect you would refuse. A line
Of fresher faces looms, and any
One would offer more, as I, too,
Stalk the aisles here to earn a
Pittance. Surely, someone with
Your backside's worth much more.
I pant. I wish that it was cold,
And I was blind or far from here.
The sun is hot, but it's outside.
I sweat because of you.



Poetry by Lawrence Beck The PoetBay support member heart!
Read 18 times
Written on 2013-07-15 at 02:45

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