THE LUXURY OF AGE
Already, I have succumbed to the temptation
of looking back, of retreating and rewriting
events only time has allowed me to see –
and only at this distance can the players shift
among themselves upon a fuzzy stage
to reappear in foggy memory, to come alive
and walk among us. I am missing parts
of your face, even of your smile, but not
the eyes that held me captive for decades
begun with my connecting high sierra stars
between us, proclaiming things – perhaps even
praying, back flat to shallow granite ground,
silhouettes of horses grazing, bell mare
shedding flies, other side of a lake.
My direct line and short-cut connection
across dark crystalline space. Ah…
the depth of forever, then and there, was
a very long time. On the uncomplicated
edge of innocence, it came early – a clear
view with magic possibilities – now sweet
the perspective and the luxury of age.