Age Just Don'T Care

Just past some dips along this road That oak still spreads its dusty leaves, Arthritic limbs ideal to climb— As kids, post-school, we’d gather there. Then, Em was six, four grades behind, Yet, fear I felt when she climbed high Or darted quick, that spry gazelle, Evading tag across the field; Her kindly nature filled my dreams, I keenly watched her growing up, Until my time to ship to war: Her letters came, pink cursive words. Well, home I went, a jaded man ‘Til spying Em sprawled on Pine Beach— She’d sprouted up, those years I missed, And ripened nice where my eyes longed. Her glance found mine beneath that sun, She wondered if I still climb trees; I wagged my face and felt it burn, Then asked her to the movie show. A purple skirt, white blouse she wore, She clutched my hand through scary scenes. And when time fell to say good-night, Upon the porch, her mouth kissed back! How glad we were to share our time, My truck, we raced on these back roads And hid from moonbeams where we necked Until it dawned our time had come … Now, years have flooded ‘neath our bridge But fondly, still, I do recall Her very words, that honeymoon: “When Cupid calls, age just don’t care.” December 15, 2017 Age Doesn’t Matter When You’re In Love Poetry Contest Julie Leigh Rodeheaver, Sponsor