The First Poem

The first poem I am a woman in mid life now. finding myself pensive and reflective. Working in my flower garden on a sunny Sunday morning. Then a poem pulls up in the driveway. Driving a red mustang convertible. I remember this car. And this beautiful poem. It wants me to unbutton my shirt and unhook my bra. I sit in the still familiar back seat. The poem recites it's soft downy words. The ones from a lifetime past. I notice I have taken all my clothes off for this poem. I look like a white pale statue. I notice the reflection of my naked self. so desirable so hot. I still have it I feel it I know it. Afterwards the poem and I talk of Forevers and marraige and other untruths