Posted Monday, August 27th, 2007
“Old men ought to be explorers”
When a woman is young
how she longs for love. She will
go without food, betray her allegiance
to childhood just to enter
that country. She would stay
forever. She would have cities, tents,
houses. Whether rich or poor she would
take those fields and cry out for joy.
No one knows but a day comes,
a shape against the horizon.
At first an odd shadow,
then rumors of a lost continent.
Once she considers a voyage
she can’t get it out of her head,
other pleasures only echo. Already
she plans what to pack. Who
will mock her? So too men
grow old and begin to follow death
the way they once longed for love.
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