WIND ON HIS WINGS
sitting here
at Martha’s Coffee Shop
my eyes lock in
on a petite young woman
with a body only the young possess
my mind on fire
with lost adonis visions
my body bartering for time
she seemingly unaware
of my eyes undressing her
she oozing sex
me an old man with groaning limbs
a once proud hawk turned
into a buzzard groveling
for road kill
she with near perfection
picks up her cell phone
speaks in an angel’s voice
a smile on her lips
my imagination undressing her
tasting the rose between
her legs
the warmth of flesh
the warmth of youth surrenders
to this old man
who becomes young in mind
the rhythm in my blood
strong as a young hawk tasting
the wind on his wings
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