by John Biggs

Laughing face, black hair, tilted eyes,
Body lissom as a sapling.
 
He stares at her enraptured,
Desiring, remembering, oh yes, remembering.
 
She catches him staring
And she doesn't mind, because
 
Old men desire
Only their slippers.
 
She doesn't know
This old man's in disguise,
 
That he wears a suit
Woven by time.
 
That his heart's as ardent
As a younger heart,
Only gentler.
 
He knows all that.
He also knows the rule
Old men must obey.
 
He can't say
'I love you, I want you'. 
 
So she'll not say
'I love you too, I'm yours'.
 
Where can such a love
Ever be mutual?
 
Only in contrived dreams
And polished memories.

Editors' note: Read a review of John Biggs's Tin Dragons by Moira Moody here.