68 Years Having Passed
I’ve heard it said
first true love is
love never to be
forgotten
If this be the case
though sixty-eight
years having passed
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
Siixty-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
Yet
Yet in truth
the lady in line could be the girl
from out my past as she
then sixteen
and me
then seventeen
as now
sixty-eight years having passed
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 forgotten
The lady in line
this old lady in line
could be the girl
this now old man has never forgotten
This old lady in line
could be the girl
this now old man has always loved.
©Septrmber 4,2020
Mark M. Lichterman
Have never forgotten the young sixteen year old girl
when you were a lad of seventeen...
I have a memory of one night on the beach
hand in hand with a young lad I had seen around
on my holiday week...just one innocent night...
and yet I have never forgotten....
Life is strange, and time often means little...
Memory can be magical...one of life’s special
gifts to treasure...
Best wishes always Mark...
Diana...
Sandie