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Mark M Lichterman

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Books by Mark M Lichterman
1952#15: 58Years Are Past
By Mark M Lichterman
Posted: Thursday, November 26, 2009
Last edited: Thursday, November 26, 2009
This short story is rated "G" by the Author.
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           >> View all 957
November 15, 1952
Going outside without his coat, the cold wind pressing his shirt and jeans to his chest and legs, Mitchell walked beyond the comparative shelter of barracks 7 to where the Atlantic wind blew the fieriest.
Looking at the bleak, winter sky, carefully tearing the triangle of blue paper into pieces, opening his hand…
“Goodbye, Susan.”




 

 

Fifty Eight Years Are Past

 

I’ve heard it said,

first true love is

love never to be

forgotten.

 

 

If this be the case,

 

though fifty-eight

years having gone,

I then am living

testament insomuch

as not a day has passed

where my mind

has not imaged,

no matter how swift

the thought,

not a day has passed

without the remembrance

of the girl, then sixteen,

that so entwined the

heart of this boy then

seventeen.

 

 

Fifty-eight years of absence,

 

I know,

changes the sound

and sight of even one so

dearly loved that::

 

 

I and the lady in line,

 

 oh, a year or two younger

than me, speak of the

headline of a gossip rag

and both laugh at the

absurdity,

as who really

cares of the ridiculous

antics of this or of any

out of touch celebrity?

 

 

I and the lady in line have a

 

friendly, comical conversation

then she pays what is due

and the lady and I say our

goodbyes and with not a

backward glance,

the cart she holds wheels

from out the store and I

and the lady part,

more than likely

for ever more.

 

 

A year or two younger,  

 

the departing lady brings

thought of the one that

had never left my mind

and though I know the lady

in line 

is not the girl from out my

past!

The lady in line

could not be the girl from out my

past!

 

But, in truth,

the lady in line could be the girl from

out my past as she,

then sixteen,

and me,

then seventeen,

as now,

fifty-eight years are past,

how would I know her face?

How would she know my face?

 

 

The lady in line? 

 

The old lady in line

could be the girl

from out the past.

 

The lady in line

the old lady in line

could be the girl

from out the past,

when she,

then sixteen

and me,

then seventeen

this lady in line 

could be the girl

from out the past.

 

The lady in line?

 

As she would not know my face

as I would not know her face,

this lady in line could be the girl

this now old man has never forgotton.

 

The lady in line,

this old lady in line

could be the girl

this now old man has never forgotten,

this old man has always loved.               

 


 

Reader Reviews for "1952#15: 58Years Are Past"


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Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
A lot to contemplate here, Mark. The lady in line, ah, we never really know, do we?
Reviewed by Georg Mateos
It seems to me that love sometimes can be like a meat grinder, leaving an unforgettable pain trip. Then there are the whys and the ifs that will perpetuate all into a tender illusion of what could had been.
Time will make your memories less haunting and more peaceful.

Georg


Reviewed by Karen Lynn Vidra, The Texas Tornado
Compelling write, Mark; well done!

(((HUGS))) and much love, your friend in Tx., Karen Lynn. :(

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