“You still have a nice figure,” he says.
I know he’s lying, and he knows I know.
What he means is he remembers how I used to look,
Just as I remember his thick, curly hair,
His strong arms tight around me.Firm thighs pressed against mine.
Now, not so firm, not so tight.
We close our eyes and remember how we used to be.
His experienced hands know how and where to touch.Our kisses less exciting but more loving.
We are like sturdy oaks surviving savage winds.
We shade each other from the scorching sun
And give protection from the crippling chill of age.
| Copyright © 2020 by Shirley Skufca Hickman |
Shirley, be assured of this: your poems will ever be welcomed at Moristotle & Co.
ReplyDeleteDo you have a large enough number of poems, or have you enough in muse’s mind, to justify a printed collection? I would gladly be such a book’s editor.
What a generous offer. I have many poems but the quality isn’t good enough for a book.
DeleteRight now I’m getting an historical romance ready to go to a publisher. I’m also working on another memoir about teaching at Cal Poly.
Shirley, a beautifully written and portrayed visuals of loving expressions in your pen. Embrace yourself and each other, as "my" Shirley and I will. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteVic
So touching and so true. I remember her as she was that first night, sweetest thing I ever saw, or ever have since. Hold tight to that, and face the stormy weather together.
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