Passing and Following
Women with their beauty flow
along the pavement; my eyes follow.
Tolerant, to my relief, my wife
also admires such lovely life.
We¹re in Carlton - a gentrified part
of older Melbourne, but not too smart.
Dawdling over cake and coffee
we¹re enjoying all the passersby,
the children and some of the men,
but specially the handsome women.
ŒAren¹t their faces familiar? I
half expect them to recognize me.¹
Carlton is her Œheartland¹. She smiles:
ŒOh, their mothers might have once.¹
Yes, or their grandmothers, forsooth.
She says (as so often): Œthe bloom of youth,
it soon passes.¹ Here it passes constantly.
ŒYou still glow,¹ I say, Œfrom inside.¹
She smirks and kicks my ankle - gently.
The café staff are joking and pretty.
Everyone¹s eyes are now following
a passing mother and girl-child glowing.
Max Richards - at Brunetti¹s - April 2011
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