by Fabrice Poussin
Rolling and coasting they went
through desserts, oceans, mountains
meadows and glaciers it seems onto this odd path.
Decades into the journey now
still facing what may come
hand in hand never to look behind.
She, still the little girl of seventeen
when first he caught a glimpse of those blues
and she responded with the coy smile of puerility.
They played those ageless games
just as today in what some call the silver years
careless of what they may think as they pass by.
He looks and sees the girl in the white dress
teasing the pulse of a man who may be seventy
but she too sees a teenager in tennis clothes.
Perhaps their perception is distorted by
years they never saw as they sped by,
to them it is but days in their common youth.
They continue on the rollercoaster of this existence
rolling and coasting along the bumpy road
living every shock with infinite delight.
***
Poussin is a professor of French and English. His work in poetry and photography has appeared in Kestrel, Symposium, The Chimes, and hundreds of other publications worldwide. Most recently, his collections In Absentia, If I Had a Gun, and Half Past Life were published in 2021, 2022, and 2023 by Silver Bow Publishing.
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