Saint Julian Press
David-Glen Smith - Poet - Father - Teacher

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xii.

 

I cannot justify my wanting you

still, even to myself, even on days

like this, when I wander, lost in a haze

of past lives.       Was it nineteen o’ two

or in nineteen twenty when we first met

seven years before my grandmother’s birth?

 

Under remote bridges you hesitantly let

me kiss you, a calculated risk worth

chancing among the needles, used condoms

 

but no, that was nineteen ninety two, after

your marriage failed, justification then

for my holding you deep in Creve Coeur Park, a secret

folding, intricate, within itself, as between two men,

not as the opening of a pure passion,

but a spiraling inward. An unresolved question.

 

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(C) Copyright 2015 ~ David-Glen Smith

Biography

For more information visit: http://davidglensmith.blogspot.com/.

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