Fascicle [10]

ten

He was a randy boy, pursuer of women,
but he lost his touch becoming a man,
reckless lover of the impossible.

He’s grown to love what’s only possible,
her. He thinks the music she plays must know
the declension of stars, of planets now.

She rises to be with the years she has
salvaged. She is younger than then, the lass
who loves a lad who could be her father,

he's that far gone. He would be her lover,
nothing less, yet he knows that’s not enough.
Time’s left to sing, to weep, and learn to laugh.

So he says. She gives all she has to let
him live. Once she has blossomed, he exits
stage right because he entered from stage left.

(7 September 2013)

copyright 2013 by Floyce Alexander